Through the Dark
by Ellaure
Summary: A Galahad/OFC. Yes, you read correctly, a Galahad love story! Rare, I know. Starting off a year or so before the movie. Read and review! And above all, enjoy!
1. I'd Like You To Meet

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters..._

**Chapter One: I'd Like You to Meet…**

Sarah tried to relax as she stood rigid next to her fiery friend who seemed unusually apprehensive. She was the one who was supposed to be there for support and here she was as anxious as the other. It was contagious. It was nearly disturbing to see Vanora so unlike herself. Then again, she_ was _waiting to see if her lover, and father of her children, was going to return… alive, that is. Sarah knew too that she was of course worried for all of the knights, but most of all Bors. The kids didn't seem too upset by it all though, they were all their normal selves, running around screaming and playing games and generally causing a ruckus. Even the unborn baby was excited as it kicked its mother particularly hard and often, which caused Vanora to touch her stomach and kindly chastise the babe. Sarah tried to make small talk in attempt to distract her from her worry, at which she failed terribly. The weather is not a topic that compares with life or death. Feeling her comrade peak with tension, Sarah removed her arm that was placed around her shoulders and took her friend's hand in her own.

"Vanora… Bors is going to be alright. He's a strong man and a skilled fighter." Sarah whispered.

"He is. Yes, he is. Plus, I can't think of a single person who would even want to come near him with the way he smells." Vanora joked, succeeding in helping both the women lighten up. Sarah tried to hide her giggle with her free hand but soon realized there was no need, as Vanora was laughing openly. Just then the gate opened and they were both returned to reality.

"Can you see them? How many do you count?" Vanora questioned quickly when her repose left as swiftly as it came. She stood on her tip toes but lost her balance due to her bulging belly.

"I'm not sure." Sarah straightened the woman before she completely toppled over, bringing herself down too, "Let me try to look." She was somewhat taller but the square was crowded with people to see the return of the Knights and their Commander, so she couldn't see much over their heads.

"Six or seven… I'm not sure." Sarah said as she continued to stretch her height to the limit.

"Well which is it? Six or seven?" Vanora became impatient, knowing there was a huge difference between the numbers. Sarah didn't answer as she counted again to be certain. "How many?!"

"Seven. There are seven riders." Sarah turned to her and smiled. Vanora let out a long sigh of relief and smiled back.

"Are you sure?" Vanora questioned cautiously.

"Yes. I'm certain." Sarah nodded happily. Vanora hugged her as tightly as she could and thanked her many times.

"For what?" Sarah asked as she returned the embrace.

"For being here with me... taking care of a neurotic old pregnant lady." She replied as she let go of her young friend.

"You're no lady." she teased and Vanora let out a boisterous chuckle, "Besides, I wouldn't want to break tradition. It's bad luck."

"Aye, I second that. Thank you again." With that she left quickly to gather her many offspring to welcome their father.

Sarah turned and fought her way opposite through the wave of bodies that were moving in to get a better view. It proved to be quite difficult and took her more than five minutes just to go the thirty feet to the outside of the square. She took a deep breath while straightening and smoothing her emerald colored dress and tucked a few loose strands of her light brown hair behind her ears once she had space to do so. Crowds always made her anxious, as well as any tight place where she felt she couldn't move freely. Sarah hopped onto a nearby crate to see if her friend met up with the man that had unintentionally caused so much stress. She could clearly see Vanora slap Bors and then kiss him passionately. She smirked at the sight of them.

"I guess she really _doesn't _like to break tradition." Sarah chuckled to herself. She dismounted from the wooden box and went on her way back to her jewelry shop. _"Well, time is money."_ she thought. But as she got to the walkway it was on she could plainly see there were no prospective customers around, so in fact, time had nothing to do with it. She decided that she didn't want to sit there all alone waiting and looking pathetic and she wasn't in the mood to make anything. So, Sarah made her way to a little fruit stand.

"Good morning." She said smiling. An old round man with a scowl turned to face her.

"What's so good 'bout it? Eh? It's still morning…" The man growled or grunted, Sarah couldn't distinguish which, "This lousy day is dragging on… like an itchy rash that won't go away. You know what I mean?" Sarah shook her head with wide eyes. "Well, lucky you then. What do you want?" Another grunt or growl.

"Uh… just two apples, please." Sarah hid the grin that was fighting to come out. This man was very rude but somehow also very amusing to her. He handed her the two pieces of red fruit and held out a dirty fat hand, as to show her he wanted his coins. She placed two in his wrinkly palm and quickly turned, nearly running away. Not because she was afraid of him but because she couldn't hold the laughter anymore. She made her way to another shop on the street, only it was in the opposite direction of her own. Sarah quickly ran the fruit under the cool water of a fountain that was connected to the outside of a shop and went on her way. She soon reached a heavy wooden door and knocked on it. There was no answer. She knocked again but still no one came. Sarah was about to give up and leave disappointed when she heard faint voices. She turned the knob and pushed it open.

"Cillian? Are you in here?" She hollered.

"I'm here." An attractive young man came from around a corner holding a worn iron hammer. He wasn't as young as Sarah, but he possessed a unique youthful appearance, mainly around his jade eyes. The attitude: I am Forever Young radiated from him. His dark blonde hair ran down in messy waves, touching the top of his shoulders. He had a black smudge, what Sarah guessed to be charcoal, across his tan forehead. Cillian had obviously been working on his artwork, which made her happy because she knew it made _him _happy.

"I brought us a bite to eat." Sarah smiled and threw him one of the apples, which he nearly dropped as he juggled between it and the tool. She pointed to her forehead to let him know there was something on his.

"How did you know I didn't eat breakfast?" Cillian beamed and attempted to wipe of the mark. He only managed to smear it more.

"It's a gift I have." Sarah replied. Just then another man she didn't recognize personally rounded the same corner. She could tell, however, that he was one of the knights. "Oh, I'm not interrupting business am I? I have the worst timing. I can come back." She babbled and instantly felt silly.

"No, no. Stay. I'd like you to meet Tristan. Tristan, this is Sarah." He motioned back and forth to the two people standing on either side of him. "Sarah is good friends with my cousin, Vanora. And also a friend of mine, of course."

"It's nice to meet you." Sarah smiled kindly at the rugged man.

"You too." He replied simply and barely looked at her as he took a seat on a stool. She noticed him eyeing her snack.

"Oh, would you like it?" Sarah offered and held out the fruit to him.

"No… You brought it for yourself." Tristan said quietly and gently waved his hand at it.

"Please, I insist. I'm not even hungry." She handed him the 'gift' knowing he was just being polite and truly wanted it, "It was just an excuse to come bother my friend."

"You don't need an excuse." Cillian taunted, deliberately leaving out the fact that she wasn't bothering him at all. Sarah merely rolled her eyes and played along with their habitual friendly teasing of one another. Cillian took a juicy bite out of his own and chewed like a child, smiling foolishly at the young woman.

"Is it good?" Sarah's smile was tainted with triumph. Cillian nodded quickly, still chewing. She noticed the knight had pulled out a dagger and was about to cut into it, "Oh! You may want to wash that first. The man I bought it from complained of having a mysterious and extremely uncomfortable rash that is incurable." She made a flippant gesture with her hand and glanced sideways to Cillian's response. He had stopped chewing. Tristan was looking up through his untidy tresses, trying to figure out if she was joking. She kept a straight face. Cillian promptly spit the contents of his mouth to the ground and glared at her as she was now nearly doubled over laughing at his reaction.

"So that's why you had no problem with giving it away." Tristan muttered.

"No, no… It's fine." Sarah managed and caught her breath, "Really, it's safe. I washed them on the way over." She reassured the men when she regained a calmer composure. Surely Cillian was about to say something witty to humiliate her when she suddenly spoke. But not to him.

"Oh no! You're injured." Sarah took Tristan's left forearm into her hands gently and began to inspect the blood stained cloth. The men were both surprised at her actions, although Sarah had no reason to feel embarrassed, she wasn't doing it to flirt with the man, so the thought of it being forward or inappropriate behavior never crossed her mind. It did Cillian's though. He observed the way she carefully examined the wound and couldn't help but feel jealous of Tristan. All of her attention and genuine concern was on him, not to mention her hands.

"It's nothing. Doesn't even hurt…" Tristan spoke quietly as usual, Sarah looked at him with a skeptical expression as to say: _"Stop acting tough like a big strong man and tell the truth." _Tristan shrugged, "Anymore."

He was surprised that she actually got him to admit it with just a single look. There was something about her that made her very approachable, someone you could say any truth to and it would be alright with her, it was actually what she preferred. He began to wonder why he hadn't seen her around the tavern, where he spends a lot of his free time, she seemed like a sweet girl. Then again, maybe that's the reason he hadn't seen her around there.

"How did it happen?" Sarah asked and she returned his arm to him.

"We were attacked by Woads… One of them somehow caught me off guard."

"Bastards." She said it quietly but they heard her clearly. She looked up to see them both with slightly amused looks on their faces. Cillian's, a little more so. Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly and she apologized for using such language.

"Don't worry about it, I've had worse… and heard worse." Tristan smiled as he tried to reassure her that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. It helped a little.

"Knock, knock! Anybody home?" A loud male voice bellowed into the room where the three were conversing. Two men stood on the stoop on the other side of the open door, "Ah, so _this _is where the welcome festivities are being held!" The blonde man spoke again as he stepped into the building, the other followed.

"Gawain! Galahad! Good to see you both alive and well." Cillian greeted them each with a strong pat on the shoulder, "What can I do for you?"

"I have a chip on the blade of my axe. Think you can fix it?" Gawain handed him the weapon so the expert could give a verdict, all the while he was looking at the young lady standing behind him.

"It'll be no problem. I'll make it better than new before you know it." Cillian explained.

"That's great." Gawain continued to gaze at Sarah, "And who is this lovely young lady? The one from your drawings no doubt?" He asked Cillian as he glanced between her and the sketches hanging on the wall. Gawain continued before he could answer, "While you are a talented artist, my friend, I do believe you failed to capture the true radiance of her eyes." Sarah broke his gaze, looking to the floor and couldn't help but blush again, albeit knowing that he was obviously just a womanizer and probably has a million more compliments on the tip of his tongue.

"The most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. Like the richest soil of our Mother Earth." Gawain continued, he glanced to the other men and noticed that Cillian's expression was rather irritated, "Oh, Cillian, please forgive me, you never mentioned you were married." Cillian furrowed his brow and then realized what Gawain was assuming.

"No, no, no. We're not… he's not my husband. I don't have a husband." Sarah smiled uncomfortably as she hastily explained, "It's just, unfortunately for him, I'm the only friend of his that has enough spare time to pose for the drawings. We're just friends. " Cillian nodded in agreement and put on a happy face, though he felt like Sarah had ripped out his heart. She had corrected the knight rather quickly, too quickly for his liking, as if she was embarrassed if anyone even thought of them to be married.

"No husband… Well, in that case," Gawain stepped up close to her and took her hand in his, "Allow me to introduce myself…" He brought her hand to his curled up mouth, "I'm Gawain, at your service." Tristan and Galahad rolled their eyes. Sarah noticed that his hands were rough and calloused, but surprisingly his lips were as soft as the petals of a rose. She had to admit the man was attractive, but if she had to choose it would be his dark haired friend standing quietly off to the side.

"I'm Sarah. Pleasure to meet you." Sarah nearly giggled like a little girl, amused with his over the top flirting.

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine." Gawain kissed her hand again before slowly letting it go, "Galahad! You're being awfully quiet over there." Gawain turned to his best friend standing behind him.

"It's kind of hard to get a word in edgewise with you… when there's an attractive woman within shouting distance." Galahad smirked as he stepped up to next to him.

"He exaggerates." Gawain shook his head at Sarah. She smiled and nodded.

"I am Galahad." He offered his hand, which she took, and placed a quick peck on her smooth knuckles. He was trying his best to stay cool and collected though he found his heart had been beating rapidly since he first saw her.

"Sarah." she replied and hoped she had said it loud enough, she couldn't hear much over the loud drumming of her pulse. Sarah had never had an experience so intense before, especially when it came to a man, her entire body began to feel hot and felt somewhat self-conscious. "Very nice to meet you, Galahad." She made sure to say his name so she would not forget it. Plus, she wanted to know what it sounded like coming from her own lips. It sounded wonderful. And it rang in Galahad's ears as well, making him want to hear her say it over and over. If his name was the only thing he would ever hear again for the rest of his days- no, eternity, it would be alright with him as long as it was Sarah who said it. More beautiful than music, more intoxicating than ale, more exciting than battle. Yes, his day would be bliss if he could hear it just once more.

"Galahad!" He heard his name but Sarah's mouth did not move. Apparently, the two had been gazing at each other and their attention could not be caught by any other. Until Gawain, who understood the whole spectacle that was playing out quite clearly, snapped his friend back into reality.

"What?" Galahad questioned with an airy voice as he tried to recover his senses.

"You came here to ask Cillian something." Gawain smiled knowingly at him.

"I did?" he asked Gawain, who nodded slowly, "I did! Yes… I, uh… forgot." He was glancing at Sarah every other word he spoke. Galahad forced himself to take his eyes off her for just one sentence and talk to Cillian, "I was wondering if I could get some more of those arrows you gave me last time."

"Of course… no problem." Cillian replied with a forced smile. Gawain wasn't the only one in the room who had noticed their 'tender little moment,' "Sarah," he spoke to the woman, who was, to his dismay, of course staring at the other man, "this may take a while… so… maybe I'll come by your shop later?"

"Oh… alright. Yes, see you later." Sarah was somewhat surprised that he had dismissed her so bluntly. A few minutes ago he was fine with her being there, even with 'customers' around. She didn't understand what had changed and she found herself feeling hurt by his indifference. Sarah looked between the three knights, "It was nice meeting you all." She twirled around and headed for the door, almost running straight into Vanora.

"Oh! Sarah! I knew I would find you here. Good, good." Vanora led her back into the shop against her will. She knew Cillian didn't want her there, so _she _didn't want to be there, "I need to ask you a favor… well, actually two." The red head smiled at her and didn't notice the uncomfortable expression on her face, "Cillian, this is Bors' weapon thing," she held it out awkwardly as if she had no idea how to hold it, "can you fix it love?" He took it and nodded then walked into the back without saying a word. Vanora went to each of the knights and hugged them as she went on, "Bors is with the children, giving me a short break, as long as I brought that blade to Cillian. So, I can't stay long." she turned to the other woman and handed her a necklace, "It was me grandmother's… can you salvage it? Number nine pulled on it and it just popped off."

Sarah examined it carefully. She realized that she needed a tool that she didn't possess… She would have to ask Cillian. That was the last thing she wanted to do; he seemed angry with her, and she didn't know why. Had she said something to offend him? No. Was he upset that she had come to see him unannounced? No, he never minded before. Could it be that he was jealous of the attention she was receiving from the knights? No, no. She and Cillian were just friends. She knew that. He knew that. It's always been that way and she's never wanted that to change or go away. Maybe he was just being over protective. While she was going through the many possibilities of his coldness in her head, Sarah sensed Cillian return to the room, so she mustered up the courage to speak to him.

"Cillian?" she waited to see his reaction to his name being spoken by her. He looked her in the eyes and raised his brows, as to say 'yes?', but still he did not speak, "Do you have some pliers small enough for this?" She held the trinket out to him so he could see it closer. After a moment he nodded and disappeared into the back once more. He was driving Sarah crazy, making things feel so awkward, she knew everyone else felt it too.

"What's his problem?" Vanora questioned a little too loudly for Sarah's liking.

"I'm not sure." Sarah whispered and shrugged.

"I think I know." Gawain wriggled his eyebrows up and down at her. Galahad back handed him in the gut, which caused Gawain to let out a loud puff of air and rub his belly.

"Ha! You don't think or know anything." Vanora teased. Just then, Cillian came back into the room. He came to stand to Sarah closely and talked softly, almost a whisper. It made Sarah have to strain her hearing, and Galahad as well. He wanted to know what he was saying while standing so near to her.

"These should do fine." he held them out to her, but as she went to take them he pulled them back, "I want these back." Sarah was shocked that he would think that she would try to keep them.

"Of-of course." she nodded and looked away for a moment. When she returned her eyes to him he was smiling and she realized he was just teasing her. He held them out and she reached for them, only he didn't let them go.

"I'll come to you… to pick them up later." Cillian said and she could feel his breath on her ear. She smiled kindly and nodded, but to be honest she felt a little uncomfortable with the way he was acting. Galahad stood, arms crossed with a frown. Gawain couldn't help but smirk at the scene between Sarah and Cillian and it causing the pitiful look on Galahad's face.

"Alright. Thank you, Cillian." Sarah said quietly as she received the instrument.

"Sarah…" Vanora stepped between them, "as for the second favor."

"I'll do whatever it is you need me to do." Sarah nodded.

"You shouldn't be so quick to agree to it before you know what _it _is…"

"It's not watching the children for the night is it?" Sarah interrupted anxiously. She loved those kids to death but being with all of them for more than a couple hours is enough to make a saint go crazy. She honestly didn't know how Vanora managed.

"No." Vanora laughed and waved her hand, "One of the barmaids can't work tonight… says she's sick," she rolled her eyes, "You see, with the knights back safely the tavern will be very busy with celebration and right now I only have one barmaid besides meself, so…"

"You want me to work in the tavern tonight." Sarah stated and the other woman pleaded with her tired eyes, "Oh, I don't know, Vanora. I've never done anything like that before, I wouldn't know what to do."

"Nonsense! It's very easy." Vanora put her arm around Sarah, "A lot easier than makin' all that lovely jewelry of yours." She pointed to the colorful and beaded bracelet around Sarah's left wrist.

"Yeah, and you've got me and Tristan to look after you." Gawain chimed in, "And Galahad as well. Right, _Galahad_?" He elbowed him to speak up.

"Yes. Absolutely." Galahad nodded his head vigorously. They all waited for a moment for Sarah to make up her mind.

"Alright. I'll do it." she answered and Vanora gave her a strong hug while thanking her, "What time do I need to be there?"

"Oh, right after nightfall. Should give me plenty of time to show you around." she answered happily.

"You hear that Cillian? You'll have to come before then if you want your pliers back." Sarah said, "I'll see the rest of you later. I better get to work on your necklace, Vanora."

A cluster of 'nice to meet you' and 'see you soon' preceded her departure.

* * *

"I want to be there when Sarah arrives." Galahad spoke to Gawain as they walked side by side around the market, discussing when to go to the tavern. Tristan followed close behind, every so often picking up a trinket and dropping it back down, never buying anything.

"No, no." Gawain shook his head slightly, "You'll come off as desperate, or worse; a man with a drinking problem."

"Then… a few hours after opening?" Galahad asked and stopped walking. Gawain and Tristan both shook their heads.

"No. She'll think you're not interested." Gawain said and Tristan agreed silently, "Besides, we promised to look after her."

"So when?" Galahad was becoming tired of this game.

"Give Vanora an hour with her to teach her a few things. That will give her enough time to become comfortable and more confident." Gawain scratched his chin, "Yes, that will be perfect." With that he began walking again and the two other knights followed.

"You could have just said that from the beginning." Galahad stated, somewhat perturbed.

"Yes, I could have just told you the right answer… But then you wouldn't have learned anything." Gawain patted his shoulder, "Now you know _why _it's the right answer, and most importantly, why _yours _were the wrong ones."

Galahad rolled his blue-green eyes.

* * *

The sun had already begun to set and Sarah was still attempting to finish her task. She was being extra careful with the necklace, considering it was an heirloom. She was so focused on it that she didn't even notice someone enter the shop.

"Still not finished?" Cillian's voice startled her and she almost dropped it, "Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"That's alright…" Sarah smiled and sighed, "This one is proving to be quite difficult."

"Are the pliers no good?" he asked, stepping closer and peeking over her shoulder.

"No, the pliers are fine," she handed them to him, "Maybe you could give it a try… Apparently, I'm not strong enough." She stood to allow him to take a seat. Cillian attempted many times but his fingers couldn't keep a grip on the small clasp.

"I can't do it…" he said standing again, "My hands are not steady enough for this kind of delicate work."

"Here let me see… Stand behind me and give me your hand." Sarah took one side of the necklace and then placed her hand over Cillian's that was still gripping the pliers, "I'll steady it, and when I tell you, go ahead and squeeze."

It was hard for Cillian to concentrate on what they were doing. His chest was pressed against her back and her hand felt warm on his own. He was helpless to the impure thoughts running through his mind and caused his hand to tremble more. Sarah tightened her grip to keep him from moving too much. Before he knew it, and wanted, they had succeeded.

"There!" Sarah exclaimed happily and released him from her hold, "Thank you, Cillian. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

"Anytime." He smiled, though he was disappointed with the too little contact with her.

Sarah glanced out the window and noticed the darkness engulfing the buildings.

"Oh, where does the time go?" she questioned as she frantically put things away, "I have to head to the tavern. Thank you again for helping me and letting me borrow the pliers." She handed them to Cillian who nodded. She glanced in a mirror hanging on the wall and fixed her hair. How he loved her hair. He stood admiring her reflection silently.

"How do I look?" Sarah asked as she turned around for him to see.

"Beautiful, as always." Cillian replied, making Sarah smile. She came to him and weaved her arm in his. They walked outside together and she made sure the door was locked. She turned quickly and gave him a brief hug and peck on his cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Sarah said as she began walking backwards away from him.

"I'll make certain of it." he replied and waved good-bye to her. She waved back and turned. He watched her go until she turned a corner and he could no longer see her.

* * *

_Hello all! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Remember to review! This is my first fan-fic and I'm just having fun with it! _


	2. Heaven and Hell

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**Chapter Two: Heaven and Hell **

Vanora was right. The tavern was especially busy this night, as it probably was every time the knights returned. Sarah weaved her way through the already drunken men and carefully balanced the drinks in her hands. She was beginning to get the hang of it. Earlier in the evening she had dropped a tray and the mugs crashed to the ground, resulting in the men clapping and cheering sarcastically. Needless to say, she was mortified and almost ran out. But she swallowed her pride, picked up the pieces and carried on with her duty. She delivered the ale to its proper table of Roman soldiers and went back to the bar. It was getting late and she was getting tired. Sarah picked up a rag and began to wipe down the counter.

"One please," a deep male voice spoke.

"Dagonet!" Sarah exclaimed happily and the man looked at her surprised.

"You work here now?" he questioned smiling.

"No, I'm doing Vanora a favor, so it's just for tonight," Sarah informed him and brushed her hair out of her face, "It's good to see you again." She filled up a cup with the golden liquid and slid it to him.

"Thank you. It's good to see you too. And good to be back," Dagonet took a sip, "How is business?"

"Oh, it's been going alright," She answered and then the two were interrupted by a man shouting for more. Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I'll let you get back to work. If you get a break come join us," Dagonet smiled at her and left as she began filling up more mugs.

Dagonet made his way to the table that his friends had claimed and took a seat beside Bors.

"Wasn't expecting to see Sarah here," Dagonet spoke to Bors and took another gulp.

"You know Sarah?" Galahad's attention was caught at the sound of her name.

"I've talked with her a few times… seems like a nice person," he answered.

"How did you two meet?" Galahad questioned, wondering why he hadn't heard anything about her before.

"She's friend's with Vanora and Bors," Dagonet told him as if it was a good enough explanation.

"Bors, you're friends with her?" Galahad asked surprisingly.

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" Bors responded defensively without looking at him.

"How come you never talked about her before?" he asked.

"'Cause it ain't any of yer business, now is it?" Bors shot back. He examined Galahad's face and noticed that his eyes were following Sarah wherever she went. It all made perfect sense to him now. "Hey, boy." Bors snapped his fingers at Galahad to get his attention, "Don't get any ideas swarming around in that empty head o' yours, alright? Sarah's not just some girl for you to add to your list. I won't 'ave it. She's a sweet girl who's too young for that and too old not to be married and settled down," he took a swig of his drink, "I wish she'd just marry that Cillian boy and be done wit' it." He slammed his cup to the table and continued, pointing at Galahad, "And if I hear that you're running around bothering her, or hurt her in anyway, I'll rip ya limb from limb. Got it?"

Galahad nodded with wide eyes, "I… I wouldn't… I would never hurt her," he stuttered. He was surprised at Bors' violent and protective reaction. And he had to admit, he was a little scared. Galahad decided that that was enough questions.

* * *

Time seemed to be dragging on for both Sarah and Galahad. She was tired of working and he was tired of waiting. He thought he'd never get a chance to talk to her before the night ended. He finished off his drink and stood up, leaving the others without a word.

"How are you doing?" Galahad came up to the bar and she had her back turned to him. Sarah recognized his voice and smiled to herself.

"Congratulations… you're the one hundredth person to ask me that tonight," she was still smiling when she turned to face him.

"Oh, well what do I win?" he leaned against the counter smirking suggestively.

Sarah thought for a moment then took his empty cup from him and refilled it, "A free mug of ale," she leaned in close to him and whispered, "Just don't tell Vanora."

"Not a word," Galahad grinned and winked at her. Sarah gazed at him, he was so handsome when he smiled. She felt her whole body heat up and was worried that he might be able to see her blush. Luckily, she was already flushed from running around table to table. When she was finally able to take her eyes off him she looked over his shoulder and saw a familiar face. He noticed her expression change from happy to inquisitive, so he glanced to where she was looking. Galahad couldn't contain his groan.

"Cillian," Sarah moved around the bar to greet him, "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check up on you… see how you are holding up," he answered and rubbed her upper arm affectionately. He then glanced at Galahad who had a visible scowl on his face. Cillian smirked with satisfaction at disturbing his visit with her, then turned his attention back to Sarah. "You must be exhausted," he briefly touched her cheek, and Galahad then realized what he was doing. If it was a competition the man wanted, then Galahad was more than willing to give him one. And though the two men were friends, he wasn't going to just step aside and let Cillian take Sarah… not without a fight.

"I am. I was thinking of taking a break soon," Sarah spoke and the two men's stare down was broken, "Dagonet invited me to sit with them and have a drink… so, I think I'll take him up on that offer," she explained as she poured some red wine into a goblet and water into another, "Would you like to join us, Cillian?"

"_Say no. Say no. Say no." _Galahad was willing his answer in his mind.

"I think I will," Cillian took the water and followed Sarah. Galahad took a deep breath and drug his feet on the stone ground as he followed them.

As the three approached, the knights made room for them. Gawain made sure that Sarah sat next to him, Cillian took the other side of her, leaving Galahad to sit across from them. But he wasn't too upset with that when he realized he had a better view of her from there. He sat silently just staring at her, not listening to the conversation. He admired the way she sipped her wine, the way she smiled when she was nervous, the way she stole a glance at him. The sky was clear and the moon was shining high above them. Its silver rays shone on her fair skin and made her eyes sparkle. He was starting to believe in heaven, he truly believed he was there. Suddenly the table jolted and he was woken from his reverie. Lancelot had slammed his drunken body onto the bench, squeezing between Sarah and Gawain, nearly shoving him out of his seat. He was positioned backwards and his elbows rested on the table to support himself. He was smiling devilishly at her.

"And who might you be, beautiful one?" Lancelot slurred, his head swaying slightly.

"_Oh great… I forgot about him." _Galahad thought nervously to himself, _"Please don't let her fall for him."_

"I'm Lancelot." he purred and twirled a strand of her silky hair.

"I'm Sarah." she answered and let out a tense laugh.

"Sarah… Sarah." he repeated her name, "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. That's my favorite name."

"Really?" she asked doubtingly.

"'Tis true, my sweet, sweet Sarah. My beautiful Sarah." he moved in close to her face to get a better look. She moved back as he moved in a little too close, "I'll be whispering your name as I lie in bed tonight and as I dream of you. Mmm, beautiful dreams of you."

Sarah looked between the other knights for reassurance, they were all just grinning at their friend's ridiculous behavior. All of them except Galahad. She didn't dare look back to Cillian.

"Would you like to make all my dreams come true?" Lancelot asked her.

"Lancelot!" Galahad shouted a little louder than he expected or wanted, so he continued with a forced calm, "That's enough, leave her alone."

"What are you, her bodyguard?… Her _lover_?" Lancelot replied, annoyed with the younger man; "Or maybe the reason you're becoming so upset is because you _want_ to be her lover."

Galahad shook his head and rolled his eyes, _"Where in Hell was Bors when you need him?"_ he thought as he remembered his earlier threats. Just a moment ago it was Heaven and now he was referring to it as Hell… his own personal Hell.

"Lancelot!" a loud roar was heard over the crowd.

"_Speak of the devil," _Galahad thought happily. Bors was coming across the floor toward them all.

"Get your filthy hands off o' her, Lancey boy," he pointed at the other, "You'll give her some disease you've picked up over your many years of bedding wenches." The other knights laughed loudly, while Sarah had a slightly worried look on her face.

"Why do you always have to go and ruin a fun time, _Borsy_." Lancelot was becoming more and more agitated with the other men.

"'Cause there's plenty of women here who are desperate and drunk enough to sleep witcha, and she isn't one of 'em," Bors snapped, sitting down heavily on a chair he had pulled up; "She's off limits to ya."

"Oo, all the more intriguing," Lancelot wriggled his eyebrows at her.

"I should be getting back to work," Sarah stood up but was pulled back down.

"Aren't you going to kiss me good-bye?" Lancelot asked while holding her arm.

"Oh look!" Sarah pointed past him, "There are two naked women!" Lancelot turned instantly. She broke away from his grip and took off. Soon she was back at the bar.

"Good job, Lancelot." Galahad remarked sarcastically and went in her direction. Lancelot merely shrugged. Cillian was about to run after her when he felt a heavy arm around his shoulders.

"Cilly! How's it going mate?" Lancelot garbled. Cillian's face was filled with disgust but decided not to fight with the highly intoxicated man.

"Just fine. And you?"

"Aw, you know… havin' fun." Lancelot drank from Sarah's wine she had left behind.

"Maybe you've had enough." Gawain said as he took the cup mid-gulp, spilling some on the table.

Lancelot chose to ignore him, "You havin' fun Cillian?" he took his cup and sipped from it and spit it out, "Water?! What are you doing in a damn tavern drinkin' water?"

"I don't drink." Cillian replied and took it back.

"Ever? Or not anymore?" Lancelot questioned, astonished to meet a man who didn't drink.

"Not anymore."

"Oh… well, that's… that's too bad."

Cillian was tired of talking with him and glanced around to try and find Sarah. She was back behind the counter, fulfilling orders as quickly as she could. He saw that Galahad was there too, _helping _even. She was smiling and laughing. Galahad was making her happy and it was making Cillian furious. It was driving him crazy. Enough to drive a man to start drinking… again. And he _really_ wanted to, but he knew Sarah would never speak to him again. Also, the smell of alcohol permeating from Lancelot wasn't helping. He had to get out of there.

"Nice talking with you all, but I must be leaving," Cillian said and departed before the others could respond, leaving them in a cloud of confusion. Lancelot, most of all.

"Was it somethin' I said?" he asked concerned.

"Don't worry about it." Tristan muttered, shaking his head.

* * *

Sarah's laughter echoed through the bar as Galahad was telling her made-up secrets about the customers she was serving. Or at least she thought they were made-up.

"Stop it!" Sarah playfully slapped his arm. She saw Cillian leave with a disturbed expression. She worried that Lancelot had said something to upset him.

"Don't worry, that was the last one, I don't know anymore." Galahad reassured her as another man, a Roman, approached, "Ohp, maybe not."

"Give me two," the soldier rudely informed Sarah. She began getting the order as Galahad whispered into her ear. She looked at the soldier with wide eyes and started laughing so hard she couldn't finish. Galahad took over, a huge smile on his face, and gave the Roman his ale. He snatched it and scowled at the knight. After he left, Galahad couldn't hold it in any longer and joined Sarah who was still giggling.

"You're going to get me in trouble," she kindly warned him.

"Maybe… but I promise I'll be there to get you out of trouble too," he replied sincerely.

"Don't you want to go have fun with your friends instead of helping me _work_?" Sarah asked him as she broke the gaze and took dirty dishes to the sink.

"I _am _having fun… with _you_." Galahad came to stand next to her and tucked the hair that was blocking his view of her face behind her ear. She shivered at his touch. He took her cheek and turned her face to his. He began to move his lips closer to hers.

"Galahad." Sarah whispered and moved her face away slightly.

"I love the sound of all the words you speak, but that one, is by far my favorite." he whispered back gaining her attention once again.

"_Mine too,"_ she thought as she went closer to meet him half way.

"Sarah!" Vanora's voice yelled from across the tavern, startling them both; "I need you over here." Sarah motioned to her that she would be right over.

"I'm sorry… I have to go," she told Galahad and he took her hand in his as she began to walk past.

"I'd like to walk you home tonight…" he spoke quietly, "If that's alright with you."

"I'd like that too," Sarah nodded and they released their grip of one another.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the table, the other knights were observing the two.

"He's trying too hard." Gawain snorted.

"I think he's doing," Lancelot hiccupped, "alright." He looked like a little boy who was up way past his bedtime. He was supporting his cheek on his fist, bunching up the flesh, "She's smiling. That's a," another hiccup, "a good sign."

"That's a very bad sign," Bors disagreed.

"Perhaps we should all stop staring and give them some privacy," Dagonet spoke up.

"Very bad idea," Bors shook his head.

"I feel sorry for him," Gawain said, "He's already so infatuated with her. I fear he thinks that he's in love."

"And who's to say he's not?" Tristan asked, surprising the others, who turned to look at him.

"He's only just met the girl!" Gawain explained.

"You don't believe in love at first sight?" questioned Tristan calmly.

Gawain laughed, "No. No I don't… Lust, perhaps." He then looked strangely at the usually silent man, "Do you?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, got up and left without another word.

"I like him better when he doesn't speak." Gawain stated, shaking his head.

"Well, I'm proud of him!" Lancelot yelled and slapped his free hand loudly on top of the table, startling the others around him as he referred to Galahad and his potential love, "Happy for him." With that said, Lancelot's arm buckled and his head slipped, falling to the table. Snoring shortly followed.

"Come on Gawain, let's get him to his room." Dagonet stood and put Lancelot's arm around his shoulders to stand him up.

"Oh, boy. Easy does it." Gawain said as he did the same with his other arm. Lancelot began mumbling indistinguishably as they began to leave.

"Good night, Lancelot." Galahad said smiling, patting the man's head as he passed them on his way back to the table.

"Sarah! My sweet, beautiful Sarah!" Lancelot was yelling again, "I'll dream of you tonight!" He continued to say her name loudly for the whole place to hear, much to her embarrassment, until finally they had left… that, or maybe Lancelot had lost consciousness again.

* * *

Galahad and Sarah were walking lazily through the dark and empty streets. They had stayed until everyone had left the tavern except for Vanora and Bors. Sarah let out a long yawn and tried to hide it with her hand.

"I'm sorry… I got up very early this morning," Sarah explained to her company, "I wasn't expecting to be staying up this late."

"I think it's early, actually." Galahad said smiling, referring that mid-night had come and gone hours ago and that dawn was approaching.

"Well, no wonder I'm tired." She yawned again as they turned a corner.

"So where exactly is your home?" he asked looking around, "Do you live near your shop?"

Sarah stopped and looked around realizing that she was a few steps away from it, "Oh! No, I don't!" she laughed, "I'm sorry, I'm so used to coming here… I wasn't thinking. How embarrassing." Sarah turned around and began walking in a new direction.

"That's alright." Galahad laughed and followed her, "It is good exercise."

"Well, don't worry, it's not too far." she looked side ways to him and smiled.

"Actually, _that's _what I was worried about." Galahad said quietly, staring at the ground in front of him, "I didn't get to spend as much time with you tonight as I would have liked."

Sarah didn't know how to respond besides smiling shyly. They were both quiet as they continued their stroll, and neither of them noticed that they had nearly brought the pace to a stand still; hoping to postpone their separation. Galahad took a deep breath of the crisp air. Fall was coming to an end and the nights were becoming cool and smelled of threatening snow that could come down any moment. Though the sky was cloudless and speckled with millions of stars.

"So, Sarah." Galahad broke their silence, although it wasn't uncomfortable; "That isn't a name you hear everyday."

"Actually, I do." Sarah smiled at him and he laughed.

"I meant, it's unusual for Britain." he explained, "Were you born here?"

"No," she shook her head, "I was born in Rome." Galahad's head whipped round to look at her. She laughed at his surprised expression, "My father was Roman… My mother was from here-well, that's a long story." she waved her hand to dismiss it, "Perhaps you'd like to hear it when we've both had some much needed rest."

Galahad nodded, "So… You're Roman?"

"Half…" Sarah replied nervously, "Does that bother you? I can understand if it does, I mean, with your, uh, duty. Is that the right word? I don't think it is…" She silently chastised herself for babbling.

"No… it doesn't bother me," Galahad mumbled without looking at her. _"Does it bother me?"_ He asked himself, but had no answer, he was too weary to think deeply about it.

"My father," Sarah decided to continue, she didn't want an awkward silence eating away at both of them, "he was a religious man… a Christian. My name… it comes from the bible."

"Are _you _a religious person? A Christian?" Galahad asked.

"Um…" She thought for a moment, "I used to be… when I was younger."

"When did you change your mind?" he glanced to her. Her face turned solemn and lost in thought.

"When my mother died." she replied in a whisper.

"I'm sorry…" Galahad felt guilty for bringing up bad memories for her.

"It happened a long time ago…" Sarah forced a smile and changed the subject, "So, is Lancelot always that charming?"

Galahad laughed heartily and nodded, "Uh, yeah… pretty much."

"Well, I'm sure he won't be when he wakes up… he obviously had a lot to drink." she chuckled.

"Don't worry about him, I think he's used to it by now." he shrugged. They stopped and he looked around inquisitively.

"This is me," Sarah explained, pointing a thumb over her shoulder to a brown door.

"Oh," he looked past her with disappointment written all over his face.

"Thank you for walking with me," she smiled.

"I couldn't let you go alone… it's not safe," Galahad smiled back and she nodded.

Both of them stood silently, not sure what to do next.

"Well…" Sarah spoke up, "I had fun tonight… thank you for helping me."

"No problem, happy to do it with you-" Galahad's eyes widened a little when he realized how that might sound, he quickly explained, "I mean, I was- I'm happy to help you." He finished with a exasperated sigh.

Sarah giggled at his embarrassed stuttering, "I know what you meant." she reassured him quietly and yawned.

"We should really get to bed." She laughed, "I mean, we should go to sleep… in our own beds."

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" he asked grinning.

"Just a little," she held up a hand and pinched her finger and thumb together.

"I get it from all ends. Will it ever cease to be?!" Galahad shouted the question to the sky above. They laughed together until she kindly hushed him to be quieter.

"You're going to wake the whole fort!" She whispered.

"Oh well. It's almost time to get up anyway." he said still chuckling. He walked up close to her and took her cheek in his palm. She looked at him, her brown orbs weary but still sparkling in the starlight. Galahad moved in to kiss her, she closed her eyes, awaiting the feel of his lips against her own. She was surprised to feel them on her cheek instead.

"Good-night, Sarah." Galahad caressed her flesh with his thumb. She realized that that was the first time she had ever heard him say her name.

"Don't you mean good morning?" she whispered and he nodded.

"Yes… Then I suppose it wouldn't be lying if I said that we spent the night together," Galahad made her blush, "Sleep well." He began to walk away backwards, so he could still look upon her form.

"You too." Sarah turned to unlock the door and opened it. She waved to him and disappeared into the dark house.

"Sweet dreams, Sarah." Galahad whispered into the night and turned to walk. A huge smile crept across his face and didn't go away until he fell into a deep sleep. A pleasant sleep, with dreams of her.

* * *

_Hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!_

_A special thanks to:_

_Heart0nmysh0e, BlackCherryCocaColaLolita, Anonymous (whoever you are), Ava-Night, Aerlinniel-lairel, and homeric for all of your kind and encouraging words! _

_A/N: For anyone who may have become worried reading this, Lancelot isn't going to be portrayed as a goofball in the entire story, lol; nor is he really that attracted to Sarah, not to say she's ugly, but he's just really out-of-his-mind drunk in this chapter… just thought I'd reassure those who needed it, if there was anyone. Thanks again!_


	3. Romans vs Knights

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**Chapter Three: Romans vs. Knights**

It had been three days and nights since Sarah had seen Galahad. Three long and mundane days. Three lonely and sleepless nights thinking of him, anxious to fall asleep; lest she dream of anything but Galahad. Sarah wondered if the knight was suffering as much as herself. A part of her hoped he was. The sun was rising and its warm hues began to bleed into her room. It was morning of day four and she was lying awake as usual. She watched while the rays crept slowly across the wood-plank floor until finally they climbed the side of her bed and pierced her eyes. She slammed them shut and groaned, either from the pain of the bright light or the pain of facing another possible day of disappointment. Maybe it was both.

Sarah felt the temperature suddenly increase, rapidly warming her body; as if the Sun was urging her to get up and greet the ways of life once again. Similar to a mother nagging a child to awaken and go outside to play. She actually missed those times, remembering when she was a young girl of five or six with no real or significant responsibilities. Except to make her parents happy and proud of course. Sarah forced herself to get out of her cushiony haven and walked to the window. Still wrapped in her white covers, she peered out over the streets and saw a few people walking silently along. She heard a rooster crowing in the distance, impatiently calling to anyone still asleep.

"Yes, yes. Rise and shine," Sarah mumbled wryly and took a deep breath of the fresh air.

She took her time bathing and dressing. Her hair alone had cost her nearly an hour. She kept getting distracted with daydreams of Galahad and his smile. Even now, as she made her way to the shop, her mind was clouded with visions of the man. When she arrived, Sarah couldn't remember the walk that got her there, her feet seemed to do it automatically; as they were used to the routine. Unlocking and opening the door, she entered the quiet room. Sarah went to the window and opened its shutters to let in the morning chill in hopes that it would keep her conscious throughout the remaining hours.

* * *

Gawain crept through the dark room. Quietly tip-toeing his way past the bed, he stood at the end of it. He gazed upon the half-naked lump tangled in the blankets and frowned. It was time for this person to be up and out. Gawain rubbed his hands and readied his body to jump on the other to give them a rude awakening.

"Don't even think about it," a groggy voice spoke, muffled from the pillow covering their face.

"Oh. You're awake," Gawain said flatly and straightened himself.

"Yes. I am," it replied.

"Well. It's our free-day, no responsibilities." Gawain went to the window and opened it, letting in the bright light, a load groan resulted, "So…What do you plan to do?"

The lump rolled over and thought while rubbing its eyes, then a smile appeared.

"I plan to see her," Galahad answered happily.

"Good man!" Gawain clapped his hands together once, "Now get up and ready yourself. You're wasting valuable wooing time."

Galahad stretched and let out a long yawn, "I'm not trying to _woo_ her. I simply want to get to know her better."

"I'm sure you do," Gawain wriggled his brows up and down.

"You know, not everything is about that." Galahad informed him, and the other merely shrugged.

"Right. Well, I'll leave you to it… Good luck."

"Thanks," Galahad waved his hand over his shoulder as he disappeared into his wash room and shut the door.

"Get yourself all pretty, now." Gawain yelled through the wood barrier. He heard something being muttered and was only able to make out the word 'Bastard.' He laughed to himself and made his leave.

* * *

"Stupid bloody wire!" Sarah threw the metal thread down upon the counter and huffed. Only an hour into working and she was already throwing a fit.

"Having a bad day?" a voice spoke and she found Galahad standing in the doorway.

"_Not anymore,"_ she thought joyfully as she stood, "No… but apparently you can't force creativity." She smiled, embarrassed that he had seen her acting like a child.

"Perhaps you are in need of a break," he replied as he stepped inside.

"Perhaps," Sarah retrieved a stool and motioned for him to sit. He accepted and looked around the place, marveling at all the ornaments hanging on the walls.

"Did you make all these?" Galahad asked while pointing around.

"Yes," Sarah answered.

"You're very talented," he commented as he continued to admire her work.

"Thank you," she replied shyly, "Would you like something to drink? I have water and…" she walked over to a side cabinet to examine its contents, "and water." She laughed quietly.

"Hmm. I think I'll have… water," Galahad smiled and she nodded.

"I'm sorry, I thought maybe I had some tea around… But I am not fond of it," she informed him as she poured two cups.

"Did Cillian draw this of you?" he asked.

Sarah turned to see that he had left his seat and was studying a sketch tacked to the wall. She joined him and handed him his water.

"No. That's not me. It's my mother," she took a sip of the clear liquid.

"Really?" Galahad questioned skeptically as he looked between the drawing and Sarah. She nodded and smiled. "Wow… the resemblance is uncanny."

"So I've been told," Sarah sat back down in her seat, "My father drew it when she was very young."

"Well, now I know where you get your artistic ability," he took his seat once again and gulped down the entire drink and went on before she could respond, "That reminds me, you were going to tell me about your mother." She looked at him questioningly, "You said that she was from here… but it was a long story?"

"Ah, yes." Sarah remembered now, "But are you sure you really want to hear all of it?" He nodded and motioned for her to go on, "Alright, but stop me if I'm boring you." Sarah stood and refilled his cup, "My mother, Morrighan, was from across the sea… and I'm afraid that if you have any questions I may not be able to answer them… She told me very little of her early years before my father. She didn't like to speak of it and changed the subject or ignored me completely if I ever asked her. What I _do _know is, when she was just thirteen she was taken from her homeland. They came in broad day light and took her and four friends while they were playing in the hills. I don't know who 'they' are, she never told me, maybe _she _didn't know. The girls traveled to the shore and were boarded onto a ship where they were forced to work for the duration. She didn't elaborate on the journey… but I'm sure it isn't difficult to imagine what happens when five young girls are on a boat with a group of uh… _deprived _men. When they finally docked they had arrived in Britain where the girls were promptly sold to Roman families looking for new help."

Sarah looked to Galahad to see if he was still interested in the story or if he had fallen asleep. She was glad to see him urge her to keep going, "My mother said she was lucky and was bought by a lovely couple who lived in a magnificent home. I personally can't understand how being bought can be lucky... But, apparently they took good care of her and treated her more like a daughter than a servant, as the couple were unable to have children of their own. Three years passed and she was now sixteen, when a man came to the house… he was the nephew of the couple, the woman's side, I believe. She simply told me that they fell madly in love and the couple gave them their blessing to wed. And so, at the age of seventeen my mother became the wife of Lucius Marcellus, a general or commander of some sort in the army… You may have figured that my father was a bit older than my mother, a fourteen years difference... He returned to Rome and built her a very spacious and comfortable house," Sarah stopped and pointed at the portrait, "That was drawn in the gardens, in the back, if I remember correctly… Anyway, in less than two years of marriage, I was born and their family was complete." Galahad waited a moment for her to continue and when she didn't he furrowed his brow.

"But what happened then? Obviously, you left Rome… but when? And why? How did you end up to be here?" he asked, leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees, still gripping his full mug. He finished with the smile she loved so much, "Not that I'm complaining."

"Well, I was very young when things became… _strained _in my parent's marriage. My father was gambling, _losing _mostly, and he began to drink heavily. He would spend most nights without coming home at all, and when he _did _he had a mistress on his side. I don't know what drove my mother and father apart. I think it was maybe the fact that they tried many years to have another child, a son, but were never able. That's not to say that my father didn't love me, on the contrary; he spoiled me rotten," Sarah laughed, remembering her earlier childish outburst, "He was a great father. Attentive, patient, gentle. It's too bad he wasn't that way as a husband. One night was particularly bad, I was seven and supposed to be in bed… I heard them fighting, louder than ever. I saw him hit my mother and told her to leave and never come back. That night was the last time I ever saw my father. I had ran back to my room and my mother came to me. She said we were leaving and to be quiet so I would not wake him. I believe me leaving with her was never what he intended… As we traveled through the empire, she told me never to go by my father's name, that he would be looking for us and would kill us if we were ever found...

"Eventually, we reached Britain and settled in a small village a little west of here. We lived in a tiny hut while she saved money that she earned working in a jewelry shop. She had learned the art in Rome in her spare time. And I learned from _her_, as I spent everyday there helping with whatever the women needed. She had a house built once she had the means and I was excited to have my own room again. And as the years passed, my mother's mind deteriorated, claiming that my father was coming to kill her and myself, or that he had died and his ghost was haunting her. Everyday it was different. Honestly, I don't know if my father is alive or dead. I suppose I could find out easily enough, but a part of me has always been afraid to learn his fate…" Sarah paused, thinking to herself for a moment then continued, "We lived there peacefully, besides her delusions, for nine years when our village was attacked by Woads. My mother was convinced that it was Lucius coming to kill us for abandoning him and made me pack only the things I couldn't live without. One thing was that drawing and another was the rosary that belonged to my father."

Sarah pointed to the wall again and Galahad noticed the beaded necklace, with its beautifully carved cross of wood hanging near the sketch; "She then opened a trapdoor, that I had no knowledge of and ordered me to go in, she said that she would distract him while I escaped. I tried explaining to her that it wasn't my father but the _natives _who were going to kill us if we _both _didn't leave. She didn't believe me and forced me into the hatch, telling me to follow the tunnel, that it would take me into the woods then slammed the door above me. What she expected me to do after that, I have no idea… she wasn't of sound mind. But I did as I was told, despite knowing that my mother wasn't going to meet me there. It took me hours to crawl through it. I remember it was completely dark except for a few small holes that let light and air in from the world above. So, to this day I can't stand complete darkness or tight places."

"So… that was when she died?" Galahad asked softly, "Or was killed, rather."

"Yes," Sarah nodded.

"How old were you?"

"Um, seventeen." She answered with a sad smile.

"Wow," he drew a deep breath.

"I told you it was a long story," she laughed insecurely .

"No, it's not that, it's all just… very interesting." he spoke, sounding a bit solemn, "But you still haven't said how you ended up here," he pointed out.

"Ah, well, that's a much simpler and shorter tale. For years I made my way by using my 'talent', as you referred to it, and moved from village to village, never remaining more than several months. I was never able to find a place where I was happy enough to stay. But then I came here three years ago, and met Cillian… he was from the same village that was attacked and lost his wife and daughter… I think that was something we had in common, so we bonded and became friends. That's how I met Vanora and then Bors and so on…"

He nodded and smiled.

"How long have you owned your shop?" Galahad asked as he finished off the remaining water.

"Two years now," Sarah answered smiling, "It's an income… I'm saving money, thinking of moving in the next few years." Galahad's face paled.

"Why?" he asked frantically, "I thought you said you were happy here."

"I _also _said that I was just _thinking _about it… things may change," she smiled to reassure him and it seemed to work.

"Galahad," Gawain's voice came from the doorway, "Sorry to disturb you both, but Arthur needs to have a quick meeting with us… even though this was _supposed _to be our day to do whatever we wanted," he sounded annoyed and Galahad sighed. Gawain smiled to Sarah, "How are you today?"

"Very well. And you?" she replied.

"I'm alright," he answered, leaning against the door frame and still grinning at her, "Had to ask Vanora where your shop was, figuring if I found _you_, then I would find my friend." This made her smile shyly and look to Galahad who was staring daggers into Gawain.

"Oh good, you found him." Lancelot appeared from outside.

"Lancelot, you remember Sarah." Gawain gestured to the woman. Lancelot looked slightly embarrassed.

"Ah, yes… I do." he said, "I'm sorry about the other night… I got a bit carried away."

"Literally," Gawain muttered.

"That's alright. You are forgiven," Sarah teased, which made Lancelot chuckle softly. Galahad caught the other men's attention and motioned for them to go off to the side so he could say goodbye to her. After they finally decoded his signals the two went to the corner and began to talk amongst each other.

"I saw you leave with that black haired beauty last night… How was it?" Gawain asked with a devilish smirk.

"She was great… and so was her friend," Lancelot and Gawain both started laughing raunchily until they noticed that Sarah and Galahad had heard what they said. The young knight looked like he wanted to kill them for embarrassing him in front of Sarah, who was smiling and looking very amused with the two. They instantly turned their gaze to the floor and mumbled their apologies. The both of them looked like children who were being reprimanded. Galahad rolled his eyes and turned back to Sarah.

"I'm sorry about them… they're not used to being around a lady." he explained.

"It's alright, really. I'm not offended." Sarah rubbed his arm in an effort to comfort him, which he enjoyed immensely.

"I have to go… but I'd like to see you tonight," he spoke quietly so the other men couldn't hear.

"I would like that too, but… I have a lot of work to catch up on." Sarah explained and could see that he was disappointed, "But maybe we could have lunch together tomorrow?"

Galahad nodded and smiled, "Yes, that would be nice."

"Alright… I'll see you tomorrow then," she said happily.

"I'll just meet you here?" he asked and she nodded, "See you tomorrow."

"Good-bye, Galahad." Sarah was beaming, "Good-bye Gawain and Lancelot."

"Good-bye, sweet Sarah." the two yelled in unison as they walked out.

Sarah couldn't help but smile and shake her head.

* * *

"Please, Vanora?" Cillian asked his cousin, "Can you just talk to her and try to find out if she feels the same way that I do about her?"

"Cillian," Vanora started, "You really expect me to raise nine children, with another one on the way; run a business because the owner is too drunk to do it himself, entertain Bors, _and_ play match-maker to you?"

"I'm not asking you to play match-maker… I merely want you to _talk _to Sarah. That's all." he replied calmly.

"No. I won't do it," she shook her head, "If you want to know, then ask her yerself."

"I can't do that!" he stood up quickly and ran his hands through his hair, "What if she doesn't? It will ruin the friendship we have."

"Then I'd have to say that you shouldn't. What you two have is special the way it is. I don't think you should risk it." Vanora continued, "Be her friend. Let her be yours. And leave it at that, Cillian."

He sat back down and was silent, searing in his frustration.

"Alright," he finally spoke and sighed, "I'll listen to your advice."

"That will be a first," she smiled and kissed the top of his head, "And I'm not going to ask you which advice you chose." With that said she left the man to think.

* * *

Sarah moaned as her body protested to her movements. She had fallen asleep sitting at her work counter after she had locked up to try to get some actual work done that evening. She rubbed the side of her face that was sore and red from lying on her arm. The lack of rest had finally caught up with her. She stood slowly and held her back that ached from being hunched over for hours. Walking gingerly to the window, she peered out and saw the waning moon gazing back. Sarah decided that it was time to go home and get some real sleep in a more appropriate place.

The night air was cold and she rubbed her arms for comfort as she walked. It was later than she thought and no one was out. She could hear voices far in the distance and guessed that they were coming from the tavern. A gust of wind came from behind and made her shiver. She picked up the pace to make it home as soon as possible so she could climb into her warm pillows. Her body was suddenly pulled off the street into a dark, narrow passageway. A large hand covered her mouth, making it very difficult to breathe.

"Scream and I'll cut your throat," a man's voice whispered harshly into her ear and she felt the cold metal of the blade stinging her neck, "Understand?"

Sarah nodded quickly and her eyes began to water. She was turned around and her back was slammed into the stone wall, making her wince. She looked at the man that was pressed up against her and saw that he was a Roman soldier that she didn't recognize, and realized that this really _wasn't _some sick joke. It all became very real and her breathing became more rapid and the threatening tears finally defeated her. Sarah was pinned and couldn't move and that thought scared her as much as what she knew was about to happen.

"I know you," the man looked her up and down, "Saw you a couple nights ago. At the tavern… you were talking with those Sarmations," he laughed and put his sword away to free a hand, "The knight's _whore_." He ripped the sleeve off her shoulder and kissed her flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt like she was going to be sick. He brought his eyes back to her and whispered, "I don't think they'll mind sharing… Hmm? What say you?"

"Fool, say I! You know naught of what you speak!" Sarah hissed at him and brought her knee to his groin. She had done it before she realized what _it_ was. All she knew was that the man was doubled over and she was free to run. And so she did, as fast as she could in whatever direction. She couldn't even remember where she was but it didn't matter, anywhere was better than here. Sarah looked back to see if the Roman was following her and could see that he was beginning to get up and recover.

He pointed past her and yelled, "Stop her!"

She looked to see who he was commanding and ran straight into what felt like the stone wall she had been pressed against just a moment ago. Strong hands grasped her arms and she struggled, but to no avail. Sarah opened her mouth to scream but before she had time a stabbing pain shot through her face and she tasted blood.

"I _told _you not to scream," the familiar voice spoke. The Roman had caught up to her thanks to the two other soldiers that now held her captive. She was dragged back to the dark alleyway.

"What do you say to having a little fun, boys." he said and they merely laughed in agreement, "We'll take turns with her."

Sarah spit in his face and he wiped it away with a look of disgust. He drew back his arm and balled his hand into fist. She closed her eyes, awaiting the painful punishment of her retaliation. But it never came, she felt him being pulled away from her body, the cool air taking his place. She dared to look and saw the Roman being punched in his scowling face. The two other soldiers released their hold of her to assist their comrade. Gawain blocked their way and quickly engaged them in battle with no weapon but his hands. Fists were flying every which way and it seemed to be a blur to Sarah.

She glanced to the man that had started this whole mess and saw that he had drawn his sword once again. It was pointed at Galahad, who was unarmed, and the two were circling one another. She watched fearfully as Galahad dodged the man's blade by just inches over and over again. He caught the soldier's arm and twisted the weapon out of his hand. Spinning around, he swiftly thrust it into the Roman's stomach and turned the hilt. The wounded man made an awful groan and fell to his knees. Galahad quickly pulled the sword out of his body and let him fall to the ground. The soldier lay lifeless in a pool of his own crimson blood. When the two others saw what had happened and the knight standing over him they ran in the opposite direction. Galahad dropped the weapon to the ground, the steel ringing sharply on the stone. He rushed to a wide-eyed Sarah.

"Are you alright?" he asked her gently as he looked her over.

"Y-yes." Sarah nodded quickly. She was shaking so he wrapped his arms around her. He felt her body tense and so he loosened his embrace.

"You killed him," she stated as she stared at the corpse.

"Yes," Galahad began to lead her out onto the street.

"You killed him," she repeated, "I've never seen… never seen someone die."

"How is she?" Gawain questioned as he walked to them.

"I think she's in shock," Galahad answered quietly as he continued to inspect her shaken form.

"Well that's understandable," Gawain scoffed and looked back in the direction where the others had escaped.

Galahad turned to Sarah and forced her to look at him and not the Roman on the ground.

"I'm going to take you to Arthur… and Dagonet can look at your wound. Alright?" He talked to her like he would a child so she could comprehend. She nodded her head silently. Sarah actually had no idea what he had said to her but knew that it was in the form of a question.

"I'll go find Dag," Gawain informed them and jogged in the direction of the tavern.

* * *

_Wow, that took forever to write! Hope you all enjoyed! More to come… Arthur is finally going to make an appearance!_

_A special thanks to:_

_TragicCure, Ava-Night, Horatiofan101, Aerlinniel-lairiel, Homeric, peachpaige, and WintherRose for your awesome reviews! You all encourage me to keep writing! Thanks Again!_


	4. Enter Artorius

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**Chapter Four: Enter Artorius**

"Couldn't move," Sarah seemed to be talking to herself as Galahad led her gently through the streets, supporting her with his arm wrapped around her shoulders; "It was dark… so dark." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, like she was on the verge of spilling more tears.

He silently rubbed her arm with his hand in attempt to calm her, but she didn't appear to be paying him any attention. It was as if she was completely alone with her thoughts. Sarah brought shaky fingers to her swollen mouth and touched the split flesh of her lips.

"He hit me," her voice was void of any emotion and it scared Galahad to hear it without the usual melodic tone.

"You're safe now," he was unsure of what else to say, never having to comfort someone in need. If not never, then a very long time.

Galahad was grateful to see that they were approaching their destination. Maybe Arthur or Dagonet would be better with soothing words than himself. They came to a pair of large double doors and he felt Sarah stop in her tracks.

"I don't want to go in there," she took a step back and out of his hold. She was looking blankly at the wooden entrance.

"Sarah…" Galahad turned to her, "We have to go in."

"No," she shook her head slowly.

"I need you to come with me," he put his hand out to guide her but she recoiled from his movement.

"I want to go home," Sarah turned and began walking away.

Galahad started after her and grabbed her arm to stop her. She whirled around and began to push him away, pounding his chest with her fists frantically. He gripped her wrists and held firmly.

"Stop," he said calmly as he tried to still her flailing.

"Let me go!" she demanded, still struggling against him.

"Stop!" Galahad was quickly losing his tolerance. Patience was never one of his virtues. He moved his hold to her shoulders and shook her, "Sarah! Look at me!" He had finally caught her attention and she looked at him teary eyed.

"Galahad?" she asked quietly. He furrowed his brow then realized that maybe she was coming back into reality.

"Yes… it's me," he nodded, thankful to see she had some recognition of her surroundings.

"I'm sorry," Sarah fell into him and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso.

He quickly returned the embrace and weaved his fingers into her hair. The guilt in her voice nearly stopped his heart and he wasn't sure what she was apologizing for, "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I can't go in there," she whispered and he could feel her shaking, "Please… don't force me to."

"Alright, alright… when you're ready," Galahad said softly as he rested his chin on her head. They held onto each other until Sarah pulled away and he reluctantly let go.

"I need a few more minutes…" she went to the steps and sat, wrapping her arms around her knees, "Need to breathe in the open air." Her voice was soft. Galahad could hear it beginning to fade away to the detached manner that continued to worry him.He was determined not to let her fall back into herself and ignore him. He walked up slowly and crouched down to her level.

"We need to speak with Arthur…" Galahad reasoned with her, "And Dagonet will want to see you."

She sat unmoving and made no sign of his presence. He stood back up and let out a long exhale, exasperated more with_ himself _for not being able to get through to her.

"Alright," Sarah suddenly spoke as she stood and opened the door. Galahad watched her enter without another word and stop to wait for him. He paused for a moment, observing her form. This was not the same person he was becoming so enthralled with. This was not his Sarah.

* * *

"Enter," Arthur's weary voice answered to the knocking on his door. It opened and he saw Jols appear.

"Arthur, Galahad is here…" he informed the commander, who was looking up from the scrolls and papers littered in front of him.

"Is something wrong?" Arthur asked as he stood and rested his fingertips on the desktop, but he spoke again before he received an answer, "Send him in." Jols nodded and stepped to the side. He watched as the knight emerged with a young woman by his side. Arthur noticed her torn clothing, disheveled hair and the bloody lip.

"What happened?" he asked, though he figured he already knew.

"She was attacked… by Roman soldiers," Galahad answered.

Arthur drew a long breath then made his way to the girl to get a better idea of her condition. He noticed that she didn't look him in the eyes, her own were glazed over and staring into nothing.

"Where is Dagonet?" he asked Jols.

"Gawain went to find him," Galahad answered for him. Arthur nodded and turned his attention to Sarah.

"My name is Arthur Castus," he said quietly as he led her to his chair. She sat and finally looked at him, "What is your name?"

"Sarah," she replied. He smiled kindly to her and she tried her best to return it, but hers was forced and impassive.

"Can you tell me what happened to you, Sarah?" he asked as he sat on the edge of his desk in front of her. She looked up to him, uncertain and nervous, she glanced over to Galahad for reassurance who encouraged her to tell him.

"I was walking home…" she began to speak but found it too difficult. Her throat was tight and felt as though she could barely breathe, "I'm sorry… but I don't want to talk about it." Sarah turned her vision to the crackling fire and away from the three men staring at her.

"Sarah, you need to tell him." Galahad took a few steps toward her but stopped when Arthur held up his hand. Voices and footsteps could be heard approaching and soon Dagonet and Gawain appeared in the open doorway. Arthur stood and stepped aside to allow the taller knight to examine her. The men waited silently; observing and shifting uncomfortably on their feet. They watched him speaking very quietly to her, and surprisingly she seemed to be reciprocating.

"I'm taking her to the infirmary…" Dagonet spoke as he helped her stand and walk to the exit. Galahad began to follow when Arthur told him to stay.

"I want to know what happened," he said and sat down in his chair once again.

"I already told you, she was attacked by Roman soldiers." Galahad replied, clearly annoyed that he was being kept from her.

"Yes, you did… but define attacked," Arthur said calmly.

"They didn't _rape_ her, if that's what you're implying." he responded bitterly, "They didn't have the chance, anyway."

"Galahad and I were walking when we heard a commotion," Gawain took it upon himself to explain, "We turned the corner and saw what looked like three men drag a woman into a dark passageway. _Naturally_, we intervened."

"Was there a confrontation… between you and the soldiers?" Arthur asked. Giving up on the younger knight for cooperation; he looked to Gawain.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Would you mind to elaborate?"

"I killed one of them," Galahad spoke curtly, making Arthur frown.

"He _did _start it though," Gawain told their leader and shrugged, "And he pulled his sword on Galahad." He finished, trying to justify his comrade's actions.

"What of the others?" Arthur questioned.

"They ran when they saw their _friend_ lying dead."

"Jols," Arthur called to the man still standing in the room, who stepped forward silently to acknowledge him, "I need you to find someone to take care of the body… Gawain can take you to it." The two men nodded and left to carry out their task.

"So what about the other two?" Galahad asked.

"I'll see that it's taken care of," Arthur replied.

"And what will be their punishment if they are found?"

"It will be a fair one."

"Please, they are Roman soldiers in a Roman fort… they'll each get a slap on the wrist and _maybe _a good talking to," Galahad sneered.

"Yes, it probably _will _be less severe than the judgment _you _enforced this night," said Arthur while sorting through the piles of work before him, "But I assure you, it will not be dismissed and it certainly will _not _be as pleasant for them as you so described."

Galahad rolled his eyes but decided not to try to argue with him or plead his case any further.

"May I go now?" he asked.

"Yes," Arthur answered and waved his hand to dismiss him. After he exited the room Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been hoping to actually get some sleep tonight.

* * *

Galahad was making his way through the corridors of the infirmary, trying to find which room Dagonet had taken Sarah to. He had to ask several people walking through the candlelit halls before he was given any helpful information. He knocked on the door and it was opened to reveal Dagonet looking concerned.

"Where is she?" Galahad whispered as he looked around the empty room.

"In the washroom," he answered and pointed in its direction. Galahad could hear the sounds of someone getting sick from within. He walked to a vacant bed and sat down, waiting for her to be finished. Dagonet could see the worried look on his face and felt sympathy for the young man.

"She'll be alright… her body's just in shock," he said as he began to grind some fragrant herbs. His friend nodded and wrung his hands together. Galahad began to remember that he had had a similar reaction when he made his first kill. And second and third for that matter. Finally, the door opened to reveal a very pale Sarah. She looked at the men briefly then made her way to the bed adjacent to the one Galahad had claimed.

"Drink this," Dagonet held a steaming cup to her, "It will help."

Sarah received it and crinkled her nose at the putrid smell, "What is it?" she asked looking up at him suspiciously.

"It's tea," he replied.

"Thank you, but I don't like tea," she said as she set it down on the side table.

"It has medicine to calm your nerves and help you sleep," he explained as he picked it back up and handed it to her again. She obediently, but reluctantly, took a sip and Galahad thought that she may get sick again by her repulsed reaction.

"Where is she?!" Vanora's voice was heard shouting from the halls and he saw Sarah smile slightly. The red head pushed the door open and nearly shoved Dagonet out of her path, "Oh, dear." she said as she looked sadly at her friend then hugged her tightly.

"I'm alright, Vanora." Sarah told her with a strained inflection, as the pregnant woman was squeezing her quite firmly.

"You don't look alright," she replied in a motherly tone. Letting go, she began straightening Sarah's hair, "You look a mess." Vanora stood and got a cloth and started to gently clean the blood from her lip, "I came as soon as Bors told me what had happened."

"I'm glad you did," Sarah smiled to her and allowed her to continue doing Dagonet's job for him. She currently felt more comfortable with a woman's touch.

"He didn't tell anyone else, did he?" she asked worriedly.

"No, no. He made sure no one else heard," Vanora answered, finishing her work and setting down the now red-stained rag, "I told him that he should come, but he is currently out helping Gawain and trying to find the cowardly bastards who did this to you… Just wait until he and Cillian get a look at you." Sarah nodded her head mutely, she still didn't feel like talking about it.

"Here," Dagonet gave Vanora the bitter tea, "Maybe you can convince her to drink it."

Vanora managed to get Sarah to consume more than half of it and helped her ready for bed. She brushed her hair and braided it, then helped her strip down to her shift.

"I have to go back to the tavern now…" Vanora whispered to her, "You get some rest."

"Thank you, Vanora…" Sarah replied, "For coming."

Vanora kissed the top of her head, "Of course… I'll see you soon." She gave the men a hug and took her leave. Sarah was sad to see her go. Dagonet decided that he was no longer needed and to let the two others have some peace together. He slipped out of the room, unnoticed by both. Sarah was lying on her side, facing Galahad, who was still sitting across from her.

"Vanora is right…" he smiled shyly at her as he stood, "You should try to get some sleep."

She took his hand, "Stay. I don't want to be alone… Can you stay?" He nodded and sat next to her on her mattress. He continued to hold her hand and caressed the back of it in a circular motion with his thumb.

"Thank you…" she whispered, "For helping me tonight." A single tear escaped and slid down her cheek.

He wiped it away and cupped her face in his palm, "I'm just happy that you're alright."

"Me too," she said, her smile had a tinge of shame, "I am starting to feel tired… Dagonet's repulsive mixture seems to be working. Can you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," Galahad stood and pulled her blankets over her. He couldn't help but feel happy; this was the first time he felt useful to her and not completely misplaced. Well, excluding his intervention with the soldiers earlier. He returned to his cot and reclined across it, "Good night, Sarah."

"Good night," she whispered.

He watched her intently while she drifted off and he was relieved that she seemed to be at peace with her dreams.

* * *

Sarah awoke with a start, her feet were icy; as they were peeking out from under her blankets. She quickly covered them and rubbed her eyes. White light was glowing at the hinges of the closed window and the fire had died down to mere embers. She glanced over at the bed across from her and found a sleeping Galahad. She watched him silently, smiling to herself as she listened to his soft and rhythmic snoring. She admitted that she could easily get used to waking up next to him every morning. This brazen thought caused her to blush and smile even wider. But memories of last night were brought back into her mind as she felt pain caused from the grin, and it slowly faded. Sarah was surprised at herself for actually getting any rest, and with no nightmares throughout the night. She went back to studying the man across from her and wondered how he was able to sleep. Had he killed so many that he has become accustomed to it? Had he become numb to the action of taking another's life? And for a moment, if that were indeed true; she pitied him.

"_Maybe he's just really tired,"_ Sarah reasoned with her thoughts, _"Or perhaps he drank the rest of that God awful tea."_ She pulled a sour expression as she recalled the taste of it.

Nature was calling so she sat up quietly and it seemed that every muscle in her entire being felt sore; strained from their unexpected struggles. She tiptoed her way to the washroom, partially because she didn't want to wake Galahad and also the fact that she couldn't; sudden movements were just too painful. When she entered the tiny room she found a dress hanging on the wall. Sarah recognized it as an old one of Vanora's and figured she had it sent over; knowing the other one was torn. She went to the mirror and examined her reflection. Her lip wasn't as bad as she initially feared it would look. There was only a short red line and some minor bruising in the surrounding area. Sarah pressed lightly on it and winced. It was still tender to the touch. She caught the sight of her arms and discovered more bruising from where the men had held tightly. Sarah sighed to herself and began to unbraid her hair. What was once stick-straight tendrils now fell in soft waves down her back.

She adorned the dress and found that it fit well enough, though it was a bit snug in the chest. After she was finished with her morning routine, Sarah walked back into the bedroom and heard that she hadn't woken Galahad. She sat on her cot and debated whether she should wake him or let him sleep. And as if he had sensed someone staring at him he opened his eyes. He was pleased to see that 'someone' was Sarah. Galahad sat up quickly, threw his legs over the mattress and mirrored her posture. He noticed that she was fully dressed and ready for the day.

"Have you been up long?" he asked smiling. She shook her head and grinned back.

"I was surprised to find you still here this morning," Sarah said, "I didn't expect you to give up your own bed."

"Don't worry about it… I actually slept better here," he replied, "How did _you_ sleep?"

"Well," she answered. She could see his worried expression, "And I'm feeling better today." She lied.

"Good… That's good," He nodded while looking intently at her and hesitated, "I…uh, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for-"

"Please, don't apologize…" she hastily interrupted him, "And please don't feel sorry for me. I shouldn't have been out so late by mysel-"

"What happened to you last night was not your fault, Sarah." It was Galahad's turn to interrupt, "What those men did, and what they were going to do… It was wrong." He looked in her eyes, they were dull and he could no longer see the naivety they once possessed. They no longer sparkled.

She turned her gaze away from him and stared at her bare feet, "I can't help but feel that way…" she whispered and shrugged.

Galahad swiftly made his way to her and sat at her side, "Sarah, look at me…" he turned her face to his and her vision was clouded with tears, "Believe me when I tell you, it was _not _your fault." The sincere kindness and certainty in his voice was overwhelming for her already fragile mood and she embraced him tightly.

Galahad rocked her gently and rubbed her back as she wept openly in his arms. She needed to feel him close; to feel his heart beating with her own. To feel a male's touch that was gentle; hoping that it would help to put this whole incident behind her. Sooner than he expected, Sarah pulled away from him and began to wipe away the tears on her sleeve while sniffling. A soft knocking came from the door and it opened to reveal Arthur.

"Good morning," he nodded to them both as he entered completely and turned his attention to Sarah, "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you," she replied with a weak smile. She saw a faint skeptical expression flash quickly over his face, "Really."

He nodded again as an acceptance to her allegation, "I was wondering if I could have a word with you."

"Of course," she agreed and waited for him to continue. She witnessed him look at Galahad then back to her and raise his dark brows, mutely asking if the knight's presence was any problem. Galahad saw it too.

"Are you hungry?" he asked Sarah.

"Starved," she replied.

"I'll go find us some breakfast… if there is any left," he then left the two to speak in private.

Arthur moved to the unmade bed that Galahad had made his own.

"I wanted to tell you, that early this morning I had the extreme displeasure of meeting two Roman soldiers," he studied her face for any reaction and continued when he saw none, "Their commander found them, apparently hiding out behind the stables and judging by their cuts and bruises, he figured that they had been in some sort of conflict. Knowing that there was a report searching for two such men, he brought them to me... Gawain identified them as the others who took part in what happened last night." Sarah nodded and Arthur went on, "I also wanted to let you know that they have been taken care of and punished appropriately… I myself saw to it that they received-"

"Please," Sarah held up her hand quickly to stop him from going any further, "please, I'd rather not know the details."

"I understand… but do know that I appreciate you coming to me and reporting it," Arthur sighed, "I fear that this happens in the fort more than we're told."

"Well… I'm not certain I would have either… if it wasn't for Galahad and Gawain," Sarah confessed, "I'm sure not all women in those situations have as lucky an outcome as myself…"

Arthur agreed silently, "Also, you're welcome to stay as long as you like if you are more comfortable here."

"Thank you, but I think I'm ready to go home to my own bed," Sarah laughed softly, "but really, thank you for everything."

He smiled kindly to her, "I'm glad to have met you, unfortunately under such circumstances… But now I can put a face to the name, of which I've been recently hearing whispered in my halls between my knights." The two chuckled together and Sarah blushed.

"Well, I'm sorry that I have been disturbing your meetings… _unintentionally_, of course."

"Of course," Arthur smirked and nodded.

* * *

_Okay… Not sure about this chapter… But I hoped you all liked it! And it's a little shorter than the rest... sorry. Next chapter will jump ahead a little, but not too far, with a little more Galahad and Sarah moments. Keep up the great reviews, they are indispensable to me and my pride, lol! And thank you to those who DID review, and also, to those who read, added to favorites, and/or added to alerts! You all know who you are… :)  
_


	5. Time Flies

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

_Branwen (BRAWN-wen)_

_Aine (AWN-ya)_

**Chapter Five: Time Flies…**

A month had passed since Sarah's unpleasant encounter with the three soldiers. And for the following weeks she couldn't go anywhere without noticing someone not far behind, keeping a close eye on her. It was usually Galahad and Gawain, or Dagonet and Bors, and sometimes even Cillian. But as the second week of her surveillance was coming to an end, she had to _kindly _ask them to stop; she desperately needed some space and privacy. Sarah assured them that she had learned her lesson and would never walk late at night by herself. She also went as far as keeping a pillow and blanket in her shop in case she ever _did_ fall asleep there again, though she knew she wouldn't. Even then, she was never left without company for her walk home.

And as the year was nearly over and winter settling in, Sarah was having to close earlier each day in order to leave before darkness. The cheery sunlight never lasted long and the freezing nights seemed to last forever. She couldn't believe that another year had come and gone so quickly. Time flies when you age, and the older you get, the more swiftly it goes. And at only twenty-three, Sarah was beginning to feel it already… and it scared her. How much faster would it go when she's thirty? Would a year feel like a week when she's fifty? It seemed to be the other way around when she was five.

But a lot had happened in these short amount of days. Lancelot had apparently broken two knuckles on his left hand during, as he lightly describes it; an unfortunate gambling miscommunication. Dagonet, the healer, ironically got very ill with a terrible fever that kept him incapacitated for days; resulting in everyone worrying. Vanora went into labor while working and many hours later gave birth to a beautiful baby girl in the early morning, and so, Number Ten was born. And Sarah's personal favorite event of the season was a wonderful day she spent with Galahad. So as she currently sat in her shop 'working,' she recalled the memory to her mind and felt as though she was at that very spot again.

_It was an unseasonably warm afternoon, with the golden sun high in the spotless azure sky. The two of them reclined on a blanket under a large oak tree, which occasionally swayed in the refreshing breeze. The millions of blades of lush grass surrounding them shuffled in the wind, putting on a beautiful display that resembled emerald flames. _

"_I'm honestly scared to death of them!" Galahad was admitting to Sarah his extreme dislike of spiders, "Here I am, confessing my fears to you and you're laughing at me!" _

"_Not at you, with you," she explained, as they were both chuckling loudly. It was a beautiful sound, them laughing together, harmonizing like a song as it rose in the air and danced with the colorful leaves dangling weakly on their creaking boughs above them. _

"_I thought you were supposed to be a brave and fearless knight," Sarah teased as she leaned back on her arms for support._

"_Well, sorry to disappoint you," Galahad rested on his side, propped up on an elbow, "But some of the others have irrational fears too."_

"_Really? Who? And what are they?" she asked._

"_Lets see…" he looked to the heavens as he thought carefully, "Ah! Lancelot! He's terrified of rats. When we were all younger he made the mistake of telling us… Needless to say, some of the others and myself pulled many cruel pranks on the poor boy. That is, until he learned how to wield his two swords."_

"_Oh my, you're a very mean knight as well," Sarah grinned at him._

"_Don't feel too bad for him, he got me back… still does whenever he can," he laughed._

"_Well, he and I will have to get together to plan a new trick to play on you."_

"_Oh really?" he asked, raising his brows, "I'll be sure to keep you two far, far away from each other." _

_Sarah shrugged, "So what about the others?"_

"_The only other one I know for sure is that Gawain is afraid of bees."_

"_Bees?" she asked skeptically._

_He nodded, "It's the funniest thing to witness him running around and flailing his arms in the air when there's one near him…Next time you see him, go up behind him and buzz in his ear," Galahad started laughing again and shook his head, "I do it to him all the time and he still flinches."_

"_You __**are**__ a mean knight!" Sarah leaned over and pushed his shoulder playfully. He grabbed her arm and pulled. _

_Galahad was now on his back and she was situated halfway on top of him. Her hair fell like a silky curtain, concealing their faces and they could only see one another. The whole surrounding world seemed to disappear. As they gazed into each other's eyes, they could both see the yearning and desire burning brightly from within. Galahad reached a hand around to the back of her neck and brought her closer. He kissed her lips softly and she felt his beard prickling her chin. The gentleness eventually turned into pure passion and he exchanged their positions. His body weighed down on hers, pushing her back into the earth beneath them. He felt warm against her and she wanted more. She tugged on his collar as they deepened their kiss. Their mouths opened and their tongues intertwined. Sarah tasted the sweet wine he had been sipping during the picnic._

_The embrace became nearly frantic, urgent to feel more of each other. Sarah moved her hand from his collar to his curly hair and tangled her fingers in it. He took her free hand and held it firmly on the ground next to her. Galahad felt her body tense and he quickly pulled away._

"_I'm sorry…" he whispered, their faces still close and they breathed heavily._

"_For what?" she asked while gazing into his worried eyes._

"_I was afraid that I made you feel trapped," Galahad explained, but it almost sounded like a question and that he was hoping he was wrong._

"_No, no." She shook her head gently and smiled then blushed, "You made me feel a lot of things… but trapped wasn't one of them."_

_Galahad pulled a crooked grin as she looked away shyly, "In that case…" He lowered his lips back to hers, but it was gentle again. He decided to take it slow and easy, to show her that he wasn't going to rush her into anything._

"To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you so happy today?" A voice broke Sarah's pleasant daydreaming. She discovered herself smiling and touching her lips that seemed to still tingle from the memory. She looked over and saw Cillian standing near the door, smiling back. Sarah became flustered and turned her eyes back to the array of coins on the counter sprawled out in front of her.

"Oh, uh…" she began to pile them up, "It's just… Business is going well." She rushed her last words as she lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, business _was _going well, but that wasn't the reason for her positive mood.

"Well, I'm happy for you," Cillian pulled up a stool and sat down, watching as she gathered the coins and put them in a pouch.

"Yes, I'm nearly to my goal…" she stood and went to put the bag into a small wooden box.

"And what goal is that?" he asked, grinning all the while.

"Oh, I'm saving money…" She immediately cringed at her own response. Sarah wasn't sure if she wanted to get into telling him. Not right now, anyway. And she knew that Cillian wouldn't let her off so easily.

"For what exactly?" he furrowed his brow, trying to examine her face, but she turned it away from him. Sarah picked up the container and went to the far wall. He noticed a missing stone and soon saw her put the box in the rectangular cavity. She returned the stone to its rightful place and turned to look at him.

"If I ever decide to move," she sat down and looked at her friend.

"Move?" his voice seemed full of panic, "Where would you go?"

"I don't know…" she shrugged and began studying her fingernails.

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"A while."

"Why didn't you ever tell me? _Were _you ever going to tell me?"

"Of course I was going to tel-"

"When? The day you were to leave?" Sarah could hear the hurt, and even a hint of anger in his voice.

"I didn't want you to worry about it…" she answered and sighed.

Cillian shook his head and smiled, "Sarah, if this is about what happened to you that night-"

"This isn't about that! Though, it doesn't exactly make me want to stay… I've been saving long before that happened," she explained defensively, not liking his patronizing tone.

"Then why do you want to leave?" he asked more calmly.

"I don't _want_ to leave… I just want to be able to have that option if I ever had to."

Cillian inhaled deeply to calm his nerves and try to understand what she was telling him. They sat in an awkward silence, glancing at one another frequently.

"You look angry," Sarah told him, "But maybe I'm wrong." She shrugged, hoping that she was. He mumbled something inaudible but it sounded agitated.

"What did you say?" she asked, "I couldn't hear you."

"I said you're wrong about a lot of things," he answered bitterly. Sarah crinkled her brow and her defensive manner was back in a flash.

"Like what? Enlighten me," she said tersely and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I know you… You're wanting to back to Rome," he said and huffed, "And why? Do you _honestly _think that your father is there _waiting _for you to return?" Sarah was taken aback by his callousness and couldn't respond besides her mouth gaping. He continued, "If he really wanted you back with him, don't you think he could have found you after all these years? Do you think he looked for you at all?"

"How dare you?" Sarah asked. She tried to relay her anger and hurt but it came out as a pathetic sounding whisper.

"How dare I what? Tell you the truth?" he responded and shrugged. He could see tears welling in her eyes and her chin begin to quiver. A part of him felt triumphant, which in turn made him feel a twinge shame.

"You don't know if that's the truth," Sarah managed and stood to walk as far away from him as she could. Her back was to him, but she could feel his burning stare.

"I believe it is…" Cillian couldn't stop from continuing, "And you're wrong about that _knight_." Sarah turned instantly and stared at him, appalled with his audacity.

"Cillian, I appreciate your concern, and that's what I hope this is all about… And you're not just intentionally being mean. But, my relationship with Galahad is _none _of your business."

"I'm not going to just sit back and watch you set yourself up for heartache, Sarah." He was back to his calm attitude. Which actually disturbed her more than when he showed his emotions. She knew that it meant he was just gearing up for another cold blow. He stood up and walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, "He's going to get you into his bed, and after that… he'll be done with you. He's _using _you, Sarah." She knocked his hands off of her and pushed passed him.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" she yelled through tears, "_You're_ wrong Cillian!" She pointed at him, stabbing the air with her finger, "Why are you being so cruel to me?" Sarah plopped down on the stool and covered her face with her hand while she sniffled.

"Because I care about you," he responded softly as he crouched down in front of her. She looked at him, eyes and cheeks red with tears.

"This is a strange way of showing it," she said cynically.

"It's true, Sarah." He gently wiped away a watery streak, "I don't want to see you hurt… I'm sorry that I upset you." She sniffed and looked at him staring worriedly back.

"But why do you have to care so much?" she asked quietly, almost as if she wasn't even talking to him.

"Are you really that blind?" he answered with a question.

"Blind to what?" she asked warily, not really wanting to know, but guessing she already did.

"To me," To hell with Vanora's advice, "When I first met you… I was completely and utterly backwards," He quickly pulled the other stool next to hers, never breaking their gaze, "I had lost everything that I held dear in this world. My wife and daughter were dead… and I wished that I was. I felt that I had nothing to stay in this world for. And so, I began drinking myself half to death, hoping that just one more would kill me. Then, I met you, Sarah. You shared my grief; having lost someone you loved. But I saw that you were strong and living your life. You inspired me, you gave me hope. Something I never thought I'd have again. You helped me to put down my poison, showing me that nothing is permanent… not even misery. You gave me a reason to live, to _want_ to live… You saved my life, Sarah… And I fell in love with you."

"Cillian," she whispered his name reproachfully as she looked away. She took a deep breath and found the courage to catch his eyes again, "Cillian, you're one of the best friends I could have ever wished for… and I love you… but not in the way you want me to." She watched his face go through many different emotions as she spoke. Hope, sadness, and then complete hurt.

"I could make you happy…" he told her with pleading eyes.

"I'm sure that if I was in love with you… and chose to be with you… that you _would _make me happy," she smiled sadly to him, "You _do_ make me happy… as a friend."

Cillian stood abruptly, "I don't _want _to be just your friend." He was exasperated, "I don't think I can be…"

A new batch of tears fell from Sarah's burning eyes, "Don't let this come between us, Cillian. It's not worth it."

"_Love _isn't worth it?!" he was yelling now.

"Not when it's one-sided!" she retorted. The anger in the room permeating from both of them was suffocating her.

"I've heard the way they talk about women," Cillian referred to the knights again, "They are merely for entertainment and used for their amusement and pleasure! _I_ would never do that to you! Yet you choose him!" He kicked the stool and it scraped violently across the floor then crashed against the wall.

"Stop it, Cillian!" She demanded and stood, "And stop trying to convince me that I should love you!" He glared at her, his chest heaving and fists shaking at his sides. His green eyes were a shade she had never seen before and it scared her. He turned away and began to walk to the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, worried what he might do. When he didn't stop or answer she asked again, a little more forcefully, "Cillian, where are you going?"

"I don't know… maybe to the tavern," he answered sourly with his back to her and his hand on the doorknob.

Sarah was becoming very tired of this manipulation, on his part anyway, "Oh, that's just great, Cillian," she threw her hands into the air, "Go drown your sorrows! I'm sure that's exactly what Branwen and Aine would want!" If she had blinked she would have missed his movements. He grabbed her neck and swung her against the door. She could breathe, so he wasn't choking her, but the harsh pressure of his fingertips stung her flesh.

"You… do _not_ speak their names," Cillian hissed quietly through clinched teeth. She could feel his entire body shaking with fury. She knew she had crossed the line by talking about his dead wife and child. Sarah stared at him with disbelief and watched him struggling to keep his temper.

"I-I'm sorry, Cillian." Her voice was quivering, fear was rising from within her. She never imagined that she would be back in this position. Between an unpredictable man and a hard place. She saw his face soften, only somewhat, and his grip vanished.

"_I'm_ sorry," he whispered as he gently pushed her out of his way and disappeared out the door, slamming it in his wake.

Sarah was left alone, confused with what just happened. What _did_ just happen? She made her way slowly to the turned over stool and placed it back upright. She sat shakily and touched her neck as she tried to accept the fact that her friendship with Cillian may have just ended. Her shoulders slumped and she wrung her trembling hands. She jumped when a knock came from the door. She debated whether or not to answer it.

"C-come in," she finally called to it. It opened slightly and a head popped in and looked around.

"Hello, Sarah." Galahad opened the door fully and entered completely, shutting the door behind him.

"Hello, Galahad," she replied with a small grin.

"I just passed Cillian…" he pointed over his shoulder in the general direction, "He looked upset… Should you go talk to him?"

"Um, no… He just left from here actually," Sarah sighed and stood. She began to busy herself with some stray materials.

"Oh… Are you alright?" he took a step toward her, but she walked to a closet and put away her supplies.

"Yes, of course." She looked at him and forced a smile, "Do you know where he went? What direction?"

"I think he was going back to his shop," he answered, puzzled by her worried tone.

"That's good," she let out a sigh of relief.

"What's that?" Galahad made his way to her, closing their gap and pointed.

"What's what?" she asked innocently.

"_That_." He moved her hair out of his view. He was looking at the red marks on her neck, which she quickly covered with her hand.

"It's nothing…" She was a terrible liar.

"Did he do that to you?" he asked with a threatening tone.

"Galahad…" She began to walk away but he grabbed her by the elbow.

"Did he?"

"He didn't mean to hurt me… It was my fault, really." She pleaded with him. He immediately let go of her and strode in the direction of the exit. Sarah ran and put herself between it and the now livid knight. She remembered quite well the way he reacted the last time someone put their hands on her. She now feared for Cillian's life.

"Don't! Don't Galahad!" she told him frantically, putting her hands on his chest.

"Move," his voice was terrifyingly calm.

"No."

"Sarah," he warned, "Move. Now."

"No! You don't understand what happened!" she pushed against him, but he barely budged.

"I understand enough!" he shouted and grabbed her wrists, prepared to move her himself if necessary.

"No, you don't! It was my fault! Truly, it was!" she implored.

"You say that an awful lot… Too much, actually," he replied softer, but still fuming and not moving.

"Please… stay here…" she began tearfully, "Stay here with me." He continued to stare at her, gripping her firmly. She could see him debating between two things he wanted to do. But which one did he want more? She continued trying to sway him, "Please, I want you to stay. I _need _you to stay." He pursed his lips and exhaled through his nose, she and her begging eyes had defeated him.

He nodded his head slowly and somewhat reluctantly, "Alright… I'll stay."

She hugged him, relieved when he returned the embrace, "Thank you."

"But tell me what happened," Galahad whispered into her hair, "I want to know _why _you think it's your fault."

She pulled away slightly and looked at him, "Later… Right now I just want to be happy… with _you_." He leaned down and kissed her gently, lovingly.

"Later then… And I _won't _forget," he promised as he rested his forehead on hers. She smiled up to him then broke their hold. She went around her counter and grabbed up a burgundy cloak and fastened it around her.

"I need to get some fresh air," she informed him happily, "Would you like to join me for a walk?"

"How about a ride?" Galahad reached behind him without taking his eyes off her and opened the door.

"Even better," Sarah kissed his cheek as she passed him and entered the street. He closed the door and watched her lock up.

* * *

The ride was even more refreshing than either of them expected. Sarah had to keep reassuring him that it was alright to go faster, that she wouldn't fall off. She held tightly around his waist as they galloped. The wind was very cool but she nuzzled her face against his back whenever it got to be too much. Galahad informed her that it looked like it was going to snow and she thought that it might hold off. But they were both wrong. After they returned the horse to the stables and began walking, freezing rain came pouring down. It wasn't just a little rain though. It came down in buckets and they could barely see in front of their faces as they ran, laughing at their misfortune. Galahad was leading them, but she had no idea where.

They entered a small room that contained a bed and an already burning fireplace. He shut the door to keep the brutal wind from coming in.

"I don't really see the point of going indoors… we're already completely soaked!" Sarah laughed and waved her hands, resulting in a sloshing sound as water flew off.

"Are you kidding me? It's freezing out there!" Galahad replied and shook his drenched head. More water flew every which way and Sarah held up her hands to keep it from hitting her face and laughed again. He looked at her soggy clothing, "Much warmer in here, don't you agree?"

"Yes," she grinned, "But where is 'here'?"

"My quarters." He looked to her out of the corner of his eye while he removed his boots that were heavy from the water. He was glad to see that she wasn't put off by that fact. Sarah rubbed her arms and her teeth chattered. He went up to her and began rubbing for her. They looked into each other's eyes. They had stopped what they were doing and stood still. Suddenly, they simultaneously grabbed a hold of one another and began kissing fervently. They frantically began removing their wet attire, never breaking their embrace, expect when Galahad removed his shirt over his head. He grabbed her and held her close while he blindly undid the straps of her dress. She let it fall heavily to her feet and she was now only covered by her light shift. Galahad slowly nudged the fabric off her shoulder and began to delicately kiss her flesh. He moved his lips up to her neck and a quiet murmur escaped her.

"_Am I moving too quickly?"_ she asked herself, _"But if it's truly what I want… why then should I wait? Love and life don't wait…" _She was arguing with herself while he continued his attentions, which was making it extremely difficult to think clearly. So she decided to stop trying and listened to her heart. She liked its viewpoint better anyway. Sarah caught his face with her hands and began kissing his lips again. He put his arms around her and started walking backwards, bringing her with him. He moved his hands down to her thighs and pulled the fabric up slowly. She lifted her arms as he brought it over her head. He looked down upon her naked form.

"Beautiful," he whispered as he gazed at her. She realized then that she was completely nude and self-consciously went to cover herself, but before she could react, his lips were on hers. They turned and he gently lowered her onto the mattress. He hovered over her, as he removed the rest of his clothing, never taking his eyes away from hers. How he loved her eyes. They seemed to be sparkling again.

They repositioned themselves, Sarah's head rested on a pillow, but Galahad was still above her. He traced a finger lightly along her jaw line and over her lips. Her mouth was so beautiful, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't resist. He replaced his finger with his own lips. He could feel that hers were no longer cold, in fact, they were quite warm now, and it made him smile against them. He had wanted this since the first moment he saw her. He had dreamed about it nearly every night and woke up disappointed many times when she wasn't beside him. He rested his hand on her shoulder then moved it slowly down the side of her body, feeling the inward curve of her waist and then the outward curve of her hip. He continued to her thigh and lifted her leg at the knee, bending it to provide a better space for his body. Galahad felt her muscles tense beneath his touch. He broke their kiss and looked at her.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked quietly, selfishly fearing what her answer may be.

"No," she whispered and shook her head. She smiled when he didn't continue, "Really, I don't want to stop."

He grinned, and went to kiss her but pulled back again, "If ever you want to stop, just tell me."

"I'm just a little nervous… I haven't done this in a very long time," she whispered again and smiled timidly. She was worried that maybe the fact that she _had_ done this before might bother him.

"Done what?… Have sex?"

She blushed and nodded, "Yes."

"Oh…" he looked down at her, thinking carefully, "But have you ever made love?"

The question made her smile widely. Did he just insinuate that he loved her? She shook her head, still grinning.

"Well, then…" he smiled back, "It will be new for the _both _of us."

She was absolutely certain that he couldn't have said anything more perfect.

* * *

They lay together, Sarah resting her head on his shoulder with her arm draped over his bare chest. He absentmindedly twirled a strand of her still damp hair in his fingers. It was still raining outside, but it had seemed to let up a little. The room was gray and darkened by the gloomy atmosphere outside with the only warm light coming from the fire crackling at their feet. Sarah's traitor mind began to wander back to her fight with Cillian. Then the fear of what he had said, that Galahad would bed her then be done with her… _Use_ her, popped into her mind.

"Are you alright?" Galahad had been watching her face carefully. She bent her neck to look up at him.

"Yes, of course," she smiled.

"You're not having regrets, are you?" he asked worriedly.

"No! Not at all… Are you?" Her smile turned anxious.

He looked down at her, furrowing his brow while grinning. He kissed her forehead, "I'm so happy it's scary…" His smile faded and he became very serious, "I've never been so sure about something, as I am about us, in my entire life…"

The second most perfect thing he had said that day.

* * *

The next afternoon, Sarah was back at her shop. She was hurriedly trying to finish three orders that needed to be done by tomorrow. But all she could think of was tonight. There was going to be a winter festival and Galahad wanted her to come with him. Apparently, it was going to be the greatest, and last, celebration of the year and she would be daft to miss it. He described to her that nearly everyone in the whole fort comes to the field it's held in and drink themselves silly. He promised to be good though. A loud, irregular knocking came from the door. Sarah stood quickly and opened it. When she saw no one she looked down to find a round, smiling face.

"Gilly!" she said happily, "How are you today?"

"Good," he smiled cheekily up at her.

"Come in, it's freezing out there." She ushered him and shut the door.

"I have somet'ing for ya," he held out a small scroll to her. Sarah took it and thanked him.

"Who is it from?" she asked before unrolling it.

"Glad," he replied. She furrowed her brow and mentally repeated what he had said, then realized that he must be referring to Galahad.

"Oh, of course," she chuckled, "Here, I have something for you too." Sarah went to the counter and retrieved a small square wrapped in cloth, "I couldn't finish it." She winked at him when he merrily took it and opened it. He took a mouth full of the sweet cake and chewed happily.

Sarah took her seat and looked at the message.

_Thinking of you…_

Those three simple words made her smile wider than she thought was possible.

"What's it say?" Gilly came up beside her to look at it, wondering what was making her so happy.

"It says… that little boys should finish their honey cake if they want to grow up to be a big, strong knight." He seemed thrilled with her answer and stuffed the rest of the treat in his mouth. Sarah jotted down a few words on a new piece before giving it to Gilly.

"Can you take this to Galahad?" she asked the boy. He nodded quickly and shot out the door before she could say goodbye. She went to the now open entrance and watched as he ran toward the market. She could see him give Galahad, who had apparently been waiting with Bors and Gawain nearby, the scroll and point back in her direction. She looked away bashfully as he caught sight of her. He opened the message, grinning wildly as he read the words.

_Missing__ you…_

They both had a strong feeling that tonight was going to be wonderful.

* * *

_Whoohoo, hope you all enjoyed some Sarah/Galahad action! I had fun writing it…Obviously, 'cause it's the longest chapter yet. Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter! And I have a feeling that I'll have no problem getting reviews for this little one, lol. Well, thanks for reading, more to come! Again, hope you all enjoyed!_


	6. A New Year, A New Life

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**Chapter Six: A New Year, A New Life**

Sarah was fluttering around her home, rushing to get ready for the night of fun. She was donning a dark blue dress, one that she had never worn. She figured that since this was a new year, then she should greet it with new attire. Not to mention, she was hoping that she could impress Galahad with it, who would be there any moment. With the mere thought of him came a huge smile as she ran around putting things away. She fixed her hair so the sides were twisted and pinned back, leaving the rest free.

"Coming!" Sarah sang to the knocking on the door as she nearly danced her way to it. She stubbed her knee on the kitchen table's bench and swore softly under her breath then continued on her way, rubbing it as she went. She straightened herself and swung the door open and her smile faded instantly, "Oh." Was all she could muster in her disappointment.

"Hello… Sarah," Cillian's voice sounded uncomfortable, matching his uneasy posture as he stood on the stoop.

"Hello," she whispered flatly. They looked at each other, both clearly unsure of how to act.

"I was wondering…" Cillian took a deep breath then mumbled, "If I could talk to you for a moment."

Sarah furrowed her brow and began to scrutinize his face. He barely looked her in the eyes and his expression seemed somewhat pained. She wondered if she should tell him no. Was she afraid of him now? A little. Were they going to get into another fight? Maybe. She really didn't want to find out. But this man standing in front of her was her best friend, ever since she moved to the fort three years ago. He was still the man that she was always comfortable confiding her thoughts and worries to. Wasn't he? She honestly wasn't sure anymore. Plus, Galahad was going to show up and she really, _really _didn't want those two in the same room with each other at the moment. Or maybe ever. She stood unmoving, torn between the two men she loved, but in two _very _different ways, which was exactly the problem.

"I won't take up much time…" Cillian urged as he was becoming nervous with her silence.

"I'm not sure," she began to shake her head and looked away from him while hugging the door, which she kept half-closed.

"Please," he implored quietly. She sighed and was able to contain rolling her eyes as she nodded reluctantly. Sarah pushed the door open completely, a gesture to let him come in, then shut it slowly after he entered, but not without first looking warily outside to see if Galahad was anywhere nearby. The thought that he wasn't gave her a feeling of relief, but also dread. She shook her head to herself, _"I'm not afraid to be alone with Cillian… That's silly… Right?" _Not afraid, no; _wary _is a better and smarter feeling. She made her way back to the kitchen, she subconsciously knew that that's where he was waiting. He sat awkwardly on the very bench that had banged her knee just seconds prior. Sarah took her place, still standing, between him and the exit. He looked up sadly at her, and she thought she could see tears in his eyes. _"Oh, great. If he starts crying, I'll start crying…I completely lose it when I see a man cry." _She groaned inwardly.

"I… I know that this isn't going to make up for what happened between us yesterday," Cillian was talking so low she could barely make out his words. He stood up and she unconsciously took a small step back, "But… I wanted to tell you, how very sorry I am. And I don't expect you to forgive me… But you deserve an apology."

Sarah stared hard at him, she was concentrating on keeping her breathing even as he spoke. She felt blood rushing hot in her entire body, mostly her face, and she was surprised to find that she was suddenly very angry with him. More than yesterday. He had insulted her, made her cry, scared her, and even hurt her physically. That last thought was what did it. She realized for the first time, that this truly _wasn't _her fault. It took Galahad to tell her that, and now Cillian was taking the blame and apologizing for it. Tears began pooling in her eyes and it only made her more furious, but this time with herself. Why did she _always _have to cry when she got really angry? It was a very annoying and embarrassing thing.

She cleared her burning throat and inhaled, hoping to suck the tears back in as well, "Thank you…" She didn't know what else to say, and she wasn't sure how well her emotions would stay calm and quiet if she said anything more. She didn't trust herself.

"Really, I am so sorry… I was just so angry at the thought of you leaving, and that you didn't tell me, and that didn't help when Galahad was brought up-"

"You brought him up yourself, not me, Cillian." Sarah was talking through her clinched teeth, still struggling with the unpleasant sensations of rage, "And that's not much of an apology… You should have just left it at 'I'm sorry'."

"You're right… I didn't mean to try to excuse my behavior," he nodded as he looked to the ground.

"Yes you did." It came out more bitterly than she had intended, but she didn't regret it, not at the moment, anyway. He shrugged weakling and plopped back down in his seat, dropping his head into his hands. _"Please don't cry. Please don't cry."_ Sarah was willing his actions, as well as her own, in her mind. She was thankful to see that his eyes were dry when he looked back up to her. Though his face was contorted in utter sorrow and remorse. She noticed him examining her neck with worry, looking for any sign of injury that he may have caused. She sighed softly, _"No use in making the poor fool feel worse about himself than he already does…"_ She walked silently and sat on the bench across from him.

"Cillian…" She cringed at what she was about to say, "I'm sorry for what I said." Cillian went to interrupt her but she held her hand up in protest, "I shouldn't have used them against you like that… I feel terrible about it, and I feel like a horrible person for having said that."

He looked at her slightly confused while shaking his head, "Sarah, you shouldn't be apologizing to me. I realize now that you were only trying to keep me from hurting myself… and then hating myself after."

"To keep you from hurting yourself…" she whispered his words to herself then mumbled, "And so, I hurt you doubly… and purposely. Please, just let me say I'm sorry for that." Sarah hated apologizing, even when she _knew _she was wrong. She was the most stubborn and prideful person she knew existed in the history of the world. And most of the time she hated it… like right now. Why couldn't it feel good to say sorry? It went painfully against her body and mind, so she rarely ever said it. Usually, if she knew she was wrong about something and the other person was right after arguing passionately, she was too embarrassed to say anything but '_Maybe _you're right.' She certainly wouldn't admit that _she _was wrong. And so that was her little way of giving in and giving up without forfeiting her sickening amount of dignity. And Cillian knew her well.

"Well, I accept," he grinned slightly at her, "I know how hard that was for you to say… even though you didn't need to. _Especially _that you didn't need to."

Sarah laughed quietly at herself, "Well, then I accept too." Forgiveness came even more difficultly to her than apologizing. Maybe it was because she had a hard time forgetting when someone she loved hurt her in anyway. Forgive and forget. Ha! But they truly do go hand in hand, just not in that order. For her it _had _to be, I'll forget _then _I'll be able to forgive. Another thing she couldn't stand about herself. And Cillian knew this as well.

"Do you truly mean that?" he asked her skeptically.

"_No."_ She decided not to give that answer, "As much as I can at the moment… Time will help, I think." _"I hope."_

"I can live with that," he smiled at her, though she wasn't looking at him, but rather the door, "As long as you promise me one thing."

Sarah's eyes shot to him immediately. They were hard and cold for just a mere second, but it was enough for Cillian to notice and he quickly looked away. Sarah exhaled sharply, "What is it?"

He hesitated but found confidence in her now kinder expression, "I want you to promise me that you won't leave."

Sarah rolled her eyes, she couldn't contain it this time, "Are we _really _having this discussion again?" Her voice was short and irritated.

"Not if you promise me," he replied calmly.

"I can't promise you that." Her tone was a little less curt.

Cillian pinched his nose as he supported his face with his elbow resting on the table, and he was now examining the patterns of its wood grain. Sarah quickly became tired of the silence, she felt like she could hear the seconds ticking by, unbearably louder and louder with the impending threat of Galahad arriving.

"Can you at least tell me if- before you leave?" Cillian was the first to speak.

"Of course." Her answer was simple so she could hopefully hurry to the end of this visit and get him out before the knight came. If that were to happen it would undoubtedly make it longer and far more unpleasant. For Cillian, anyway. And probably much more painful.

"Alright. As long as you promise me," he said as he gazed into her wandering eyes, forcing her to lock them to his.

"I promise," she smiled and nodded. That's it, smile and nod, that's all she had to do to make him complacent. But he noticed that she didn't look at him once, and he got a strong suspicion that she was lying. He continued to watch her as she glanced at the door again, shifting in her seat.

"Are you waiting for someone?" he asked as he looked to where her attention was.

"Um, yes."

"Oh… Is it him?" he asked, trying very hard not to sound completely sulky.

She only nodded.

"Are you going to the festival?" Cillian prided.

"Yes… Are you?" Sarah couldn't seem to get into a comfortable position.

"I think so. Vanora and Bors invited me to join them," He answered nonchalantly, "I think she's going crazy being stuck indoors taking care of the baby… she needs a break."

"I can imagine," Sarah smiled as she remembered holding the infant a few times. And every time she did, or anyone besides Vanora for that matter, the child wailed loudly; demanding to be returned to her mother.

"Well, I uh… I should be leaving," Cillian stood slowly, "And get ready."

"Oh, right," Sarah copied his motions, forcing herself not to literally push him out, "I guess I'll see you there then."

"Uh, yes… I'll see you there," Cillian nearly bolted for the door. Sarah held her breath, praying that no one was on the other side. She exhaled deeply when he left and shut it behind him. She slumped down heavily back on the wooden seat. Her shoulders and back drooped as she went through the visit in her head. It had been so awkward, she wondered if their friendship could last. Or even be near to what it was. She wasn't hopeful. Strong knocking came and she almost fell away from the table. Sarah took a second to compose herself, she drew in a deep breath and forced a smile. It soon became natural as she knew who was there waiting.

"Sarah, open the door," the voice was demanding, but not yelling. An audible groan escaped her. He must have seen Cillian leave. More loud banging, "Please open the door, Sarah!" Galahad's volume was increasing, and the worry was clear.

"Alright, alright," Sarah called out, loud enough for him to hear, then mumbled about his impatience to herself. As soon as the door was open just a fraction he pushed his way through.

"Are you alright? I saw Cillian leave." He made some sort of manly growling noise that sounded angry, "Oh, it took everything I had not to go after him." He was shaking his head as he looked her over, searching for any reason to do just that.

"I'm fine, Galahad," Sarah reassured him, "Really. We just… talked." Was that the right word?

"You let him in your house? Alone?" he asked, obviously disapproving.

"Don't worry about hi-"

"Don't worry?!" Galahad threw is hands in the air, "The man hurt you, Sarah! Are you insane?!"

"No. I'm not." Sarah felt the blood rushing hot again. People had said that about her mother. He scoffed at her answer and started muttering angrily to himself. She decided to go on, "And that _man_ is my friend… We apologized to each other for what happened." Galahad stopped and stared at her, wide eyed.

"Wait…" he spoke very quietly, unsettling so, and moved closer to her, "We? _You_ apologized to _him_?"

"Well, he wasn't too happy about that either… but, I did it more for myself than him."

"That doesn't make it any better. Why can't you see that you don't need to be sorry for anything?"

"Galahad," Sarah was exasperated, "I told you what happened and what I said to him, don't you remember?" She had told him _most_ of what happened; leaving out the love confession.

"Yes, I do. So what? He would've gotten over it." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Can we please just let this be? And go have some fun before the whole night is ruined?" Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed sweetly into his eyes. He moaned, hating how she could derail his thoughts with just a single look. He also loved it.

"You're right," he kissed her mouth slowly and whispered against her lips, "Let's go have some fun."

* * *

Sarah and Galahad walked together, arm in arm. She could already hear the commotion of laughter and joyful yelling as they approached the frosty field. He had been right, it looked like the entire population of the fort was there celebrating, a wave of bodies fusing together. It was a cool night and the entire sky was a clean black slate, free of any clouds, but dotted with millions of silver specks. The crescent moon hung low, hovering above the horizon in a vivid white sickle. The people's flesh shined, reflecting its light and the fairer ones seemed to glow a pale blue. Sarah glanced to her hand and saw that her own skin was turned into a faint sapphire hue. _"At least I match my dress."_ She chuckled to herself. The cool colors soon turned to a warm yellow as they came closer to the enormous bonfire. Its flames leapt excitedly, seeming to join in with the people dancing happily around it.

"Sarah! You made it!" Vanora cried joyfully from the couple's left. They turned together effortlessly, as if they were moving with the music that was being nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. She put herself between Galahad and Sarah, forcing them to break their contact and hugged the girl tightly, "I thought you would try to come up with one of your lame excuses to get out of it, like the previous two years you missed!"

"Oh, well, I uh…" Sarah wasn't sure what to say, she never was much on crowds and she certainly didn't want to come and be the third wheel to Vanora and Bors. But now she wasn't, thanks to Galahad, who made her feel comfortable in the midst of bodies. She smiled to Vanora, "Well, I knew I couldn't miss another one."

"Right you are! This is even bigger and better than last winter!" Vanora seemed very cheerful as she dragged Sarah by the arm to a nearby table. The other knights were entertaining themselves and each other with ale and stories. Each one becoming more and more ridiculous in attempts to embarrass the others more than they had been.

"Oi! Sarah, don't you look lovely!" Bors hollered over the tales and they all spun around to see for themselves. Sarah blushed bright red, discovering she was the center of attention. Unwanted attention.

"Uh, thanks, Bors." she muttered as Galahad led her to an empty seat and he placed himself next to her. She was thankful to him that he let her sit on the end and not in between anybody.

"You look absolutely beautiful," Galahad whispered into her ear and his warm breath made her shiver. He wrapped his arm around her, taking her reflex wrongly, not that she minded though.

She smiled shyly and whispered, "Thank you. You look absolutely handsome." He grinned widely back.

"So I hear that this is your first time to one of these, Sarah." Gawain waved his hands around gesturing to the party, "We try to never miss it… but sometimes we're on a mission."

"Yes, this is my first time," she smiled and nodded to the man across from her.

"Well, I think you'll enjoy yourself… You just need to get some ale into you," The side of his mouth pulled into a grin.

"I think I'd prefer wine… is there wine?"

Gawain let out a boisterous laugh, overpowering the surrounding noise, "Is there wine?" He repeated her question, still chuckling and shook his head as if it was a silly thing to ask, "Of course. I'll be right back." He stood and jogged away.

"Bring me back something!" Galahad shouted to him, Gawain waved his hand lazily over his shoulder without looking.

Sarah leaned to her right, toward Vanora, who was sitting on Bors' lap, "Where's Cillian? He said that he was coming." She whispered, making sure Galahad couldn't hear, though he was currently denying false facts as Lancelot began narrating the most outrageous story yet.

"He's here," Vanora pointed to her left, "He met up with an old friend. Apparently they knew each other when they were just boys."

Sarah looked behind her and found him sitting in a circle along with four other men. Cillian caught her glance, he smiled kindly, yet awkwardly and waved to her. The other men noticed and looked in Sarah's direction, though they were fairly far away and she couldn't see their faces very well. She waved back, smiled weakly, and returned her attention to Vanora.

"Small world, right?" Sarah asked quietly. Vanora answered by shrugging, obviously not too interested in her cousin at the moment. She had eyes only for her lover, they began kissing and whispering to each other. Sarah became uncomfortable with their displays and decided to go back to the table's conversation.

"That's not how it happened at all, Lancelot. And you know it!" Galahad accused while laughing.

"Hey, I remember it well, I was there." He argued.

"No you weren't! Dagonet was the only one with me. You were off doing who knows what!"

"Your mind is playing tricks on you, my friend," Lancelot shook his head.

"Dagonet!" Galahad held his hand out to him, "Please, set the record straight. Tell Lancelot what _really_ happened. Tell him the truth."

"The truth about what?" Dagonet seemed genuinely confused. He obviously hadn't been paying their banter any attention. He looked between them and then to Sarah. She gave him an apologetic look, letting him know that she didn't have a clue either and couldn't help.

"Pfft. Never mind," Galahad rolled his eyes, though he didn't seem too annoyed about it.

"Will Arthur join us tonight?" Sarah asked him quietly.

"Probably… Maybe." He wasn't looking at her, she looked to what could possibly be holding his gaze and not her. Gawain was back with a goblet and mug. He placed the cup in front of her and sat down.

"Thank you," she replied and took a sip. He nodded and took a sip from the mug.

"Where's mine?" Galahad asked.

"Oh, sorry. I for- They ran out," Gawain teased and winked at Sarah. She couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"Very funny." He smiled sarcastically, "I'll be right back." Galahad stood and kissed the top of Sarah's head as he walked around her. She watched him go until he disappeared amongst the people and she could no longer distinguish which body was his. She looked away and found Gawain grinning widely at her, it was a knowing smile.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh nothing," he replied, his smirk grew bigger. She furrowed her brows and flushed under his intense gaze.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stare?" she teased.

"Yes," he narrowed his eyes, "Unless it was someone as beautiful as you." She laughed once and gave him a doubtful look. He was unsure of her expression, "You don't think yourself beautiful?"

She hesitated while considering her response, "I don't think myself _ugly_."

His joyful expression turned disapproving, "You are needlessly insecure."

"I prefer modest," she answered quietly, looking down at the table.

He nodded in agreement, "Modesty is very attractive. Makes men desire even more."

Her cheeks flushed brighter. Was he speaking the truth, or just flirting?

"What makes men desire even more?" Lancelot interrupted, suddenly very interested in their private conversation.

"Modesty," Gawain answered, his eyes still on Sarah as she continued staring at the wood and running her fingers along the rim of her cup.

"Oh, yes. That's true," Lancelot positioned himself next to her, the same way he had when they first met at the tavern, only not so uncomfortably close. She didn't dare look at him, he was surely grinning devilishly at her; she could hear it in his voice.

"_What is taking Galahad so long?"_ she thought as she looked around for him over Gawain's shoulder, forcing herself not to catch his eye. But someone else standing in the distance caught her eye.

"Excuse me for just a moment," Sarah stood and smiled at both of them and purposely paid no mind to their expressions. She walked as quickly as she could without tripping over the hem of her dress. She had to stop abruptly several times as someone would cut off her path. After the third time she was becoming irritated.

"Tristan!" Sarah yelled to him and waved to get his attention, "Could I talk with you?" She asked smiling as she closed the gap between them.

His face was blank of emotion, as usual, and he nodded, "Sure." He noticed her look around to the many people. He motioned for her to walk with him. They made their way to the outer perimeter and the loudness dulled, making it possible to speak without too much effort. They continued their stroll in silence for a short time.

"You wanted to talk…" he spoke softly.

"Oh, right. Well, I was wondering if…" Sarah glanced to the man on her left, trying to catch a glimpse of his features but they were hidden behind his messy hair. As usual. She looked back to the ground in front of her, "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor, actually."

He looked over to her and raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Please, feel free to say no…" she took a deep breath, "I remember, a long time ago, that I went with Vanora to the training grounds. She wanted to watch Bors… well, train, obviously." her voice was fading, "Anyway, I watched too. And I noticed that you handled yourself very differently from the rest…"

"Differently?" he asked.

"Oh, it's not a bad thing. Please don't take this the wrong way," she continued, suddenly nervous to offend him, "You're a very skilled and able fighter… it's just that, while the others rely on mostly strength, you seem to rely more on accuracy… Not to say you're not strong, I don't mean _that_." She finished quickly.

Tristan was still not clear what she wanted, "Alright…"

She took a deep breath and stopped walking, "Right, the favor. Like I said, don't feel compelled to say yes, if you don't want to-"

"Sarah," he stood in front of her, looking down at her bowed head, "You're babbling."

"I know. I'm sorry," she smiled anxiously, "I was wondering if you would, maybe, teach me a few ways to defend myself."

"Why did you ask me, and not Galahad?" he questioned.

She shrugged, "I figured he'd say no. Besides, like I said before, you don't depend solely on your strength… And I'm not exactly that strong." She stole a glance at him. He was studying her very carefully and she thought she could see him nodding his head minutely, though it was very hard to tell in the shadows.

"I see… Does this have anything to do with the Roman soldiers?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Sarah flinched at the memory, "And if I said that it did?"

Tristan looked away from her and focused on the dark patch of woods behind her. She knew if she glanced back she wouldn't be able to see the trees, but she knew they were there. She watched the man instead as he was momentarily lost in thought. His lips pursed slightly.

"Then, I'd say to meet me in the stables at dawn. Not tomorrow, but the morning after." He finally answered.

Sarah smiled widely, "Thank you, Tristan. I really, really appreciate it."

He looked her up and down quickly, "Do you have anything more… appropriate to wear?"

She glanced down at her dress and back to him, "Like pants?" He nodded. She smiled again, "I'm sure I can get some."

* * *

"Where have you been?" Galahad met Sarah a few steps from the table, he kissed her cheek and grinned, "I was beginning to think you changed your mind."

"I just went for a walk," she answered and shrugged.

"Alone?" he asked quickly, looking worried.

"No, I was with Tristan," she replied and the knight soon appeared from behind her.

"Oh, that's good," Galahad led Sarah back to the table.

"Where did Vanora and Bors go?" she asked as she sat back into her place.

"They went to talk with… Cillian," his voice and face cringed at the name. Sarah rolled her eyes but made sure he didn't see.

"I'm glad you didn't tell Bors about what happened with me and Cillian," she whispered.

"Well, I didn't want Bors to kill him before _I _could my hands on him first," he replied in a very serious tone.

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that about him," Sarah pulled away from him and crossed her arms on the tabletop.

"And _I _wish you would stop making excuses for him," he retorted.

"He's my friend, Galahad," she stated.

"Not much of one."

"You don't know him."

"I know his type." He scoffed into his ale.

"And what type is that?" She asked defensively.

Galahad swallowed then sighed, "Sarah, I don't want to argue. Especially about him. Let's drop it and enjoy the rest of the evening. Alright?"

"Fine," she nearly huffed. She gulped down half her wine, hoping to relax her now tense muscles. After a few minutes the two of them were both back in each other's good graces, cuddling and kissing while they thought no one was watching.

* * *

"Cillian, I think Sarah would have told me if she were planning to leave," Vanora spoke.

"I would have thought that, too. But she didn't," Cillian stated, taking a large swig of water.

"Relax, she's not going anywhere," Bors chuckled, "Not while Galahad's around."

Cillian winced and squeezed his cup tightly, "Maybe. Maybe not."

"She seems happy… why would she leave?" Vanora asked. She was starting to worry, being influenced by her cousin's strong notions.

"I thought she told you she wasn't?" Bors asked Cillian.

"That's what she said, yes." he answered solemnly.

"But you don't believe her?"

"No. I don't," Cillian shook his head, gazing into the water.

"Well, it's her decision. She has to make her own life, Cillian." Bors spoke quieter than normal. Was he trying to comfort the man- or was he himself feeling sad at the thought of Sarah going away?

"She _has _a life. Here. With us," Cillian argued, "We're her friends. We're her _family_."

The three sat silently as they each contemplated what it would be like without her around.

"We can all try to convince her of that…" Vanora spoke glumly, "But, we all know how stubborn she is. She isn't swayed easily. And I'm afraid the more we pressure her, the more she'll resist. Sarah is tenacious." She sighed, defeated, "So what can we do? Nothing. We can only hope."

"That's not good enough," Cillian muttered bitterly. Vanora and Bors shared a look at his resentment. Cillian exhaled loudly and stood, "I'm going to bed." He stalked off into the darkness.

"He really does love her, doesn't he?" Vanora sighed and cuddled next to Bors.

"Dangerously so," he answered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he watched their friend walk away.

Vanora furrowed her brow, "What do you mean by that?" She looked up to look in his eyes.

"Let's just hope he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like tell Sarah that he loves her," Bors raised his brows.

"That wouldn't be _too _terrible," she shrugged under his heavy arm.

"No, I guess not. Not the worst thing in the world," he answered and kissed her forehead.

"What would be the worst thing?"

"With Cillian… who knows? He doesn't always think things through." Bors stood and pulled Vanora with him, "Come on, let's go watch the dagger throwing."

* * *

"So what are the conditions?" Galahad asked, half grinning.

"Hmm… If I win…" Gawain began to think of a good bet. Sarah went to him and whispered into his ear. His eyebrows raised and he smirked at his friend, "Alright. If I win, you have to shave your beard."

Galahad looked to a smiling Sarah, "You don't like my beard?"

"I would just like to get a glimpse at the rest of your handsome face," her cheeks were flushed from the wine and words seemed to flow more easily.

"Alright, fine. If _I_ win… you have to shave your head," Galahad looked at him and jutted his chin up with triumph. Gawain looked at him, slightly horrified with this idea. He quickly debated to back out of the bet.

"There's no way he'll agree to that…" Lancelot's voice carried even when he was whispering to Sarah, "He's too vain."

Gawain rolled his eyes, though Lancelot couldn't see as he stood behind him, "Fine. Deal."

"Wow, I'm truly and utterly surprised," Lancelot raised his brows and smirked.

Sarah moved to Galahad's side and pecked his cheek, "Good luck. As much as I'd like to see you clean shaven, I'd much rather see a bald Gawain." She stepped back, returning to Lancelot's side as he stood cross-armed, waiting for the fun to begin.

"Who throws first?" Gawain asked, anxiety evident in his voice.

"Toss a coin!" someone yelled from the newly gathered crowd. Galahad retrieved one from a bystander and jogged back to place.

"You can call it," he told Gawain and flipped it into the air.

"Heads."

Galahad caught it and slammed it onto the back of his hand. He peeked and sighed, "Heads. You go first."

"Fine," Gawain grumbled as he positioned himself carefully. He drew in a couple deep breaths to focus. He concentrated deeply on the target for several minutes. Lancelot pretended to snore and Gawain shot him a threatening look, at which the other merely laughed. The blade hit near the top of the wood pole. So close, that Galahad groaned; knowing he'd never be able to beat it. His landed next to it, but still below it by not even an inch. He heard Gawain exhale with relief.

"You win," Galahad conceded quietly and patted him on the shoulder as he passed him. He narrowed his eyes at Sarah as he approached her, "I hope you're happy."

"I am. It was win-win for me," she teased. He growled at her playfully and pulled her tight against him.

"You're going to be punished for this you know," he whispered huskily into her hair.

"I certainly hope so," she grinned and kissed his lips. He returned it with double the fervor. They could hear disgusted groans and comments, but they paid no attention to the seemingly trivial world around them.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed! Sorry about the delay, I've been really busy. Not a very good excuse, but that's my reason! Thank you all for the really __**wonderful **__reviews! _


	7. Where There's Smoke

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**Chapter Seven: Where There's Smoke…**

"No!" the word escaped Galahad in a dry airiness. He was sitting up straight in his bed, his breathing rapid and the coldness around his bare chest somehow felt like burning. He looked hazily around the quiet room, the fire was nearly embers and there was a dreary gray hue enveloping the small space like an ominous fog. He quickly looked to his right and discovered an emptiness. He placed his shaky hand on the linen, the iciness stung his palm and he recoiled. Images from his dream poured into his head and he felt an unexplainable panic rising, "Sarah?" He thought he heard a muted sound coming from the washroom, "Sarah?" His voice managed to break through its hoarseness and became a hushed yell.

The door opened suddenly and Sarah appeared in its frame, "Yes? Are you alright?" She could hear the alarm in his tone quite clearly, and now she could see it in his expression, "What's wrong?" she asked softly as she made her way to him. She looked down into his uneasy eyes that were looking back at her, somewhat bewildered. She held the sides of his face in the palms of her warm hands and he closed his lids, the heat she emitted was more than comforting.

"Nothing… I thought you were gone," he explained quietly.

"No, I'm still here," she looked at him worriedly, his words seemed too strained to imply he simply thought she had left. Sarah sat down next to him and began to rub his back while he rubbed his face and tired eyes.

"What are you doing up so early?" he mumbled through his hands. He let them drop and looked around, "It is early, isn't it?"

Sarah let out a small chuckle, "Yes, it is early… I need to finish an order that I didn't get done yesterday."

"Oh."

"I have to get dressed… Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, furrowing her brow at his unusual behavior. He looked at her form and smiled. She was wearing nothing but a long tunic that revealed the creamy skin of her legs. It was one of _his_, and he couldn't help but feel the passion that vision produced within him.

He grinned wider, "Yes. I'm perfect." She was happy and relieved to see him smile, and she couldn't fight off her own. His was contagious.

"That's true…" Sarah stood and leaned to kiss his cheek.

"I'll walk with you," he held her hand.

"No, no. You look exhausted. Go back to sleep," she gently pushed him back down on the bed.

He thought of arguing but he truly was tired, "Alright… I'll come see you later."

"Please, do. And don't forget to shave," she teased and kissed his lips. He moaned against them and pulled her closer while he leaned up to meet her halfway.

"Stay. Just a little longer," Galahad murmured on her neck.

"I can't…" Sarah was struggling with her emotions, "I have to go." She forced herself to break away from him. He groaned in disappointment as he watched her go back into the washroom.

He exhaled roughly and let his back fall heavily onto the cushions, "Sleep," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Sarah shivered against the cold morning while dragging her feet along the stones. One caught her toe and she stumbled, but was able to straighten herself before falling. She cursed and made herself pay better attention, which was difficult. All her thoughts were on Galahad, whom she had just left, sleeping restlessly and mumbling her name. His discontent was very disturbing for her, she wished she could have stayed. _"I should have stayed…"_ She thought shamefully to herself. She hugged her arms tighter, trying to warm them against the bitterness that felt like needles to her too lightly covered body.

Sarah took in her surroundings, vaguely noticing that not a soul was around, not even any Roman soldiers. Though, that didn't necessarily bother her much. Everyone was still recuperating from late night, warm in their beds, hopefully having better dreams than Galahad. Mist hung densely in the air, swallowing the structures around her, turning them into blurry shapes and rounding their jagged corners. As she came closer to her destination she heard faint footsteps ahead, scurrying and scraping along the ground. Then she caught the smell of smoke and her attention was focused entirely on the buildings ahead. She picked up her pace to a slow run and stopped at the dead end. Glancing to the right, she could see the flames eating away at the shops, Cillian's was completely engulfed, and the roar of it now seemed deafening in her shock. Sarah clamped her gaping mouth shut and looked to her left, toward her own store. It was only a matter of time before the fire reached it, using the row of connected buildings like a fuse.

"_Take only what you can't live without…"_ Her mother's voice echoed loudly in her ears. The portrait and the rosary were only things she needed.

Sarah ran with no hesitation. Her feet seemed sluggish, like she couldn't get there fast enough. It reminded her of a nightmare, with some invisible force working against her body. After what seemed like forever, she reached the door and turned the knob.

"_I thought I locked that last night," _the thought whispered in the very back of her head and so it was ignored.

She looked around and saw a stone missing from the far wall. She shook her head and rushed to it. She felt frantically into the dark, empty cavity while tears welled in her eyes.

"No, no, no!" Sarah whispered out loud.

"Looking for this?" a voice taunted from behind. She whipped around to meet the cold blue eyes of a burly man holding up the pouch of coins, jiggling them to hear the sound of metal on metal. Before she could think, do, or say anything, the man brought up his other hand and struck the right side of her head with whatever he was holding. It felt hard and sharp, most likely the missing stone, was her last coherent thought. Her mind went hazy and very dark, but she was still conscious, hearing two men talking. Or at least she thought there were two voices, she couldn't be completely sure as she lay on the floor. Rough hands grabbed her by the arms and jerked her up. There were loud crashing sounds as someone had opened the nearby closet and began knocking the shelves down. She was being led to it, her feet limply dragging against the floor. She was shoved into the tiny space and fell down to its corner.

"No," her voice weakly protested in her dazed panic, she wasn't sure the men heard anything. The door slammed shut, blackening the air around her, so dark, it was as if she hadn't opened her eyes at all. More noises from the outer room, shuffling and gathering, the sounds of her trade being stolen.

"Burn it…" the man that spoke before ordered an unseen affiliate.

Realization sunk in and Sarah rose quickly from the floor, too quickly; her head swam wildly. She brought her hand to the side of it and pressed gingerly, her fingers touched wetness. She wouldn't be able to see if she looked, but she knew it was blood. She could feel it soaking her hair and trickling down her cheek and ear. Once she had steadied herself she searched for the doorknob, but found none. She remembered the only one was on the outside. Sarah began to pound on the barrier with the side of her body, hoping to break it open, but only managed to bruise her shoulder. The smell of smoke stopped her futile actions. She looked down and saw it swirling in the little light that seeped in at the space between the door and floor. Panic instantly took over.

"Help!" Sarah screamed and slammed her fists on the wood, making as much noise as possible, "Help! Somebody help!" She altered between her hands and feet as she abused the door, it shook violently but never relented.

* * *

Lancelot tiptoed into the frosty morning vapor. He shut the door slowly behind him and managed to make no sound. Once he was free and clear he let out the air he had been holding in his lungs. He bounded down the few steps swiftly and crept away.

"_Farewell, Eleri." _He glanced back to the home, _"Or was it Eryl? No, no. That doesn't sound right… Heilin?"_ Lancelot was going through the possibilities that could be the name of the woman he spent most of the night with while he made his way back to his quarters, _"Rhian! That's it!"_ He smirked and shook his head at himself; that name didn't sound anything like the others.

As he walked silently, he recalled the night's events and couldn't help but feel high and mighty. A smug grin was plastered on his striking face, making it even more irresistible. There was a bounce in his step as he turned a corner then stopped abruptly.

"_Whoa."_ He thought as he stood wide eyed. A raging fire was wreaking havoc near the market. Lancelot ran down the street and saw several men rushing away.

"Stop!" He yelled and pointed at them and lifted his foot to make chase when something drew his ear. He realized where he was and what buildings were burning. He listened harder and screams for help resonated through walkway.

"Sarah," Lancelot whispered in surprise and looked to her shop. He stood stunned, but only for a second before he bolted in its direction. He pushed the door open violently and it bounced off the wall, he had to block it with his hand as it swung back. A large cloud of smoke billowed out around him and he coughed dryly. The fire was spreading fast, the room already felt like an oven.

"Is somebody there?!" Sarah's voice was frantic but had a tinge of hope.

"Sarah!" he answered as he weaved through the flames and covered his mouth and nose with his arm.

"Lancelot?"

"I'm here!" he yelled over the whipping roar of the blaze while following her voice, it led him to a door.

"Oh! Thank you!" Sarah was so grateful she felt like she could cry, "Now get me out of here!" she said smiling.

"It's locked!" he informed her, "Where's the key?!" He asked while looking around.

"It's not in the door?! I've always left it there!" she answered, all hope was lost again.

"Get back!" Lancelot ordered. She immediately did as she was told, though she couldn't go far in the shallow closet. A deafening bang shot through her ears and she covered them.

"What are you doing?" she asked loudly.

Lancelot had braced his body against the perpendicular wall and was now kicking the doorknob fiercely. He answered between kicks.

"I'm trying… to break… the lock!" He grunted the words. The metal was jabbing painfully into his foot, even through his boots. "Just one more good kick" he muttered to himself and gathered all his strength. A large beam from the ceiling fell and crashed onto the floor. That was all the encouragement he needed; they were running out of time. He brought his leg back and hoped this was the last time. The iron ripped away from the wood and the door sprang open. Sarah clinched her eyes shut from the sudden brightness and was grabbed by strong hands. Lancelot yanked her to his side and began dragging her to safety.

"Wait!" Sarah choked on the smoke, "I need to get-"

"We have no time!" he yelled and ignored her protests. She tried to pull away from him but he barely noticed.

"Wait! Stop!" she pleaded while struggling against his hold. They were soon outside and coughed as the cold air hit their lungs. Sarah looked back at the inferno destroying her shop. Lancelot was supporting himself with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. A surge of the flame's energy ruptured from inside and burst open the shutters of the window. Lancelot shielded her instantly as the ball of fire shot out and they fell against a wall of a nearby building. Pain shot through Sarah's side, but she ignored it while she watched in horror as the flames consumed the two things she couldn't live without. Her mother's portrait and father's rosary promptly turned to hot ash.

"No!" she let out a piercing scream, "No! Please let me go!"

"No, Sarah! It's too late!" Lancelot held firm around her waist. Her resistance faded as her body weakened. She collapsed into his hold, gripping his body for support as she wept into his chest.

* * *

Galahad's eyes shot open as his body startled awake with a violent jolt. His breathing was rapid and his heart was beating painfully. He rolled over onto his back and groaned loudly, annoyed with his brutal subconscious. He pressed his palms into his sockets and felt unshed tears. The room was quiet, but there were strange sounds coming from outside. He listened to rushing commands that were filled with alarm. Galahad jumped up and ran to the window. People were scrambling clumsily in their obvious panic. He quickly donned some black pants that were thrown in the corner and pulled the white tunic that Sarah had worn over his head. Her sweet fragrance overwhelmed his senses and his grim dreams mixed with memories of her. A feeling of dread passed through him again as her face flashed in his mind. Galahad pulled himself out of his haze and hopped on one leg as he slipped his boots on. He ran outside, not bothering to shut the door behind him. He had to find her.

"What's happening?" he solicited to someone passing.

"There's a fire!" the boy answered quickly.

"Where?" Galahad asked warily and looked at the person for the first time.

"Near the market!" he answered and pointed.

He sprang away from the adolescent toward the indicated direction. Galahad ran full speed and flew by a procession of men, passing buckets of water down the line. The black smoke was rising in front of him and ash fell like snow. He came to the dead end, the heat radiated and burned his eyes. He turned his watery vision and found his destination overcome by the fire. Galahad strode to it, like a moth to a flame, his body wavering.

"Sarah," he whispered. His voice was the only thing he heard. Only her name. The rest of the world seemed to stop with his fear of losing her. He dropped to his knees and became hypnotized with the burning. His blood flowed icily in his veins, freezing his body in position. He didn't know how long he'd been there, time no longer held any meaning to him.

"_Someone's calling you,"_ a tiny voice spoke in his dismal mind, _"Answer them, you fool!"_

Galahad blinked slowly, he forced his ears to start working again. It gradually came, it sounded like he was under water.

"Galahad!"

He looked around blindly, _"It's not Sarah…"_

"Galahad!"

"_Gawain?"_ he asked the voice in his head. It answered, _"Yes! Now get up!"_ He followed his instructions, though it took much effort.

"There you are! I've been looking all over!" A winded Gawain nearly crashed into him as he ran up, "Sarah's asking for you."

Galahad looked at his friend, astonished and relieved, "Sarah? She's alright?"

"Yes. Now let's go," Gawain answered smiling and pulled him along, as Galahad's legs were still not working properly.

* * *

"There." Dagonet spoke deeply as he stood, "The bleeding has stopped. You won't need stitches."

"Thank you," Sarah answered, looking up at the man towering over her, "That's a relief."

"You'll still need to take it easy for a while…" he pointed to her waist.

"I don't think I'll have any trouble remembering. My cracked rib won't let me forget," she smiled weakly.

"Sorry about that," Lancelot looked to her with a frown as he remembered slamming his body into hers with most of his weight, thus knocking her side into the wall.

"It's a small price to pay in exchange for my life," Sarah tried to brighten his mood. He nodded his head lazily and looked away.

"Arthur is waiting for us in the other room," Dagonet helped Sarah to her feet and led her out to the hallway, Lancelot following behind.

They entered the other chambers, Arthur, Bors, Vanora and Cillian were talking quietly.

"Why is it we always only see each other after unfortunate events, Arthur?" Sarah asked as he came to greet them.

He smiled sympathetically, "Well, I'll try to stop making a habit of it."

"Yes. You should have come to the celebrations last night," she teased. He was glad she didn't seem too upset by everything. A little surprised, actually. Maybe it hadn't sunk in yet. Sarah looked to Cillian bent over in a chair, his fingers pressed to his forehead as he rested his elbows on his knees. She went over and took the seat next to him silently. Vanora and Bors sat across, carefully observing the two.

"Where's Galahad?" Sarah asked Arthur.

"Gawain went to find him," he answered.

"That's good. I don't want him to worry…" Sarah turned her attention to Cillian, "How are you doing, Cillian?" She placed a hand on his shoulder and caressed his bicep with the other.

"Wonderful," he answered dryly. He inhaled deeply and looked to her, "How are _you_ doing? Is a better question…"

"Honestly? I'm a _little _upset… but I'll live," Sarah forced a chuckle and smiled at him.

He stared hard at her, stone-faced, "This isn't funny, Sarah." He shook his head and looked away.

"You're right, it's not. I'm sorry." she whispered, suddenly embarrassed, "I know you lost a lot, too. I didn't mean to try to make light of it." She waited, then sighed when he didn't answer.

"Sarah?" Galahad ran into the room. She stood slowly and met him half way. He embraced her tightly and she hissed in pain, but hugged him back. He let go and held her at arms length, "I was so worried. Are you hurt? Are you alright?" He rushed the words and she could barely understand him. He hugged her again and began kissing her face.

"Galahad, I'm fine," she mumbled against his lips, "And we're not the only one's in the room." She whispered the last words, knowing that Cillian was probably watching.

"Like I care," he answered smiling and kissed her again, then released her, "I'm so glad you're alright… What happened?"

"Thank you for finding him, Gawain," Sarah ignored his question, she had already told Dagonet and Lancelot, who told Arthur the basics. It wasn't a lot, but enough for him to send Tristan out to look for the thieves.

"Lancelot," Arthur began and took a seat, "Tell me everything you know about what happened."

The knight began telling the events. Sarah tuned him out, she already knew the story; she _lived_ it. And it wasn't something she necessarily wanted to _relive_. Instead, she watched her friends' reactions, in particular, Galahad and Cillian. The former was hanging on every word, while the latter was showing no interest at all. She left Galahad's side and took her place by Cillian again, resuming her comforts as before. He still wasn't responding to her, so she started listening to Lancelot half-heartedly. Galahad had stopped completely while he watched Sarah and Cillian. His jaw clinched at seeing her touch him and an unfamiliar emotion was tearing through his soul, turning his stomach into knots. He began thinking of the many and very slow, painful ways he'd like to slaughter Cillian. Sarah's voice broke his sadistic reverie.

"Lancelot, I don't think it was quite _that _dramatic," she smirked at him.

"Sarah, you would have _died_ if I hadn't happened to be walking by," he chided. This comment made Galahad and Cillian wince. She merely rolled her eyes.

"Well, let us give thanks to God that you survived," Arthur looked to Sarah.

"Actually, I'd rather give thanks to Lancelot," she muttered and made the mentioned knight chuckle.

"Of course," Arthur nodded and smiled uneasily.

"This was never supposed to happen," Cillian's tortured voice caught everyone's attention, though it was no more than a whisper.

"Oh, Cillian." Sarah leaned into him, "I know… it's terrible."

"No, you _don't _know… I have to leave," he stood abruptly and swept out of the room, leaving behind a wake of bewilderment.

"He's just upset…" Sarah spoke to Vanora, who looked rather worried for her cousin, "I'll go talk to him." She made her way to the door but was stopped by Galahad.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sarah," he whispered as he held her arm, "You said it yourself; he's upset… we both know what happens when he's upset."

"It's alright… He needs a friend… so let me handle it," she pulled away from him and rushed out the door.

"She'll be fine, Galahad," Vanora comforted, "Let them have a moment together to talk about what happened."

He nodded reluctantly and leaned against a wall, arms crossed.

* * *

"Cillian! Wait!" Sarah chased after his fleeing form, "Stop! I can't run with a nearly broken rib…" she caught up with him when he slowed his pace, "Thanks…" He never acknowledged her presence as he continued walking aimlessly.

"Come back to my place… we can talk and I'll make you some tea," she offered casually.

"I don't want to talk about it," he responded curtly.

"Well… I do," Sarah whispered.

He sighed heavily, "Fine."

She weaved her arm in his and led the way in silence. When they arrived, she sat him down at the table and began searching through her cabinets.

"I know I must have some… somewhere," she talked to herself as she looked for the tea, "Ah! Found it." She turned around to show him the wooden box and saw that he was looking at her in fear, "Cillian… what's wrong?" She asked in shock, surprised with the amount of emotion in his expression.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah," tears fell from his eyes.

"Why are you sorry, Cillian? This isn't your fault," she knelt on the bench in front of her.

"Because it _is _my fault," he croaked the response, standing then began to pace nervously.

"What are you talking about?" she sighed.

"You said you were going to leave me," he began babbling, to himself more than her as he explained, "I couldn't let that happen… So, I did something about it. He said he could help me." Sarah furrowed her brow as she feared she was beginning to understand. Cillian stopped and looked at her, "I gave him the spare key to your shop… the one you asked me to keep, incase you lost yours. I told him… where he could find the money."

Sarah remembered the day they had their fight, she had been putting the coins away when he was there. Her breathing was becoming erratic and her watering eyes wavered back and forth quickly, unable to focus as she listened.

"He said, that he would do it before anyone noticed… you weren't supposed to be involved. They didn't say anything about burning the shops!" he hollered the confession, "You were never to be in any danger! They lied to me! I never wanted that to happen, Sarah…" Cillian stepped toward her, he cupped her teary cheeks in his hands gently, "Please, Sarah. Please, forgive me."

Her eyes slowly made their way to his, "You're out of your mind." She pushed his hands away and stepped back, "Why would you do this to me?"

"You said you were leaving!" he shouted.

"I promised you I wasn't!" her voice was hoarse, but strong.

"No! You promised you'd tell me before you did!"

"I can't believe this," she spoke quietly, shaking her head in astonishment.

"I'm sorry, please… say you forgive me," he tried to hold her face again.

"Don't put your hands on me! It makes me sick!" Sarah yelled as she slapped him away.

He clinched his teeth and rubbed his mouth roughly, "You made me do this, Sarah," he jabbed his finger at her.

"What?" she narrowed her eyes.

"You should have promised me that you'd stay!" he yelled, she could feel the vibrations in her chest, "I couldn't stand the thought of losing someone else I love."

"Love?" she bit her lip painfully and tightly clutched the box she still held, "I was so stupid… I wish I'd never met you, Cillian."

"Don't say that," he whispered.

"I do wish that… I should never have befriended you. I should have let you kill yourself." She cried out in frustration, "I was so stupid to trust you! And I was stupid to _ever _love you!"

"Sarah," he croaked as he approached her.

"I hate you, Cillian! I _hate_ you!" she threw the box at him as he came closer. He easily deflected it and continued toward her, "You took everything from me! My past! My present! _And _my future!" She began chucking whatever her hand brushed upon, but it was never anything big enough to hurt him as much as she wanted to. She held her finger up and warned him as he advanced to her, "Don't come any closer to me."

"Sarah, just listen to me," he spoke calmly.

"No! Get out! Get out of my home! And out of my life! I never want to see you again! Now, get out!" she screamed in his face while pointing to the exit.

"No," he shook his head, "I can't leave you."

"Go. _Now_." she whispered in her fury. He made no motion to leave. She put her chin up, "Fine, if you won't leave, then _I _will." Sarah rushed toward the door but was pulled around the waist. He held her firmly to his body, his chest heaving against her back.

"Let me show you how much I love you," he whispered in her ear. The intensity of lust drenching his voice frightened her. She brought up her leg and pushed off the wall with her foot and they both crashed onto the table behind them. She grunted in pain as his arm squeezed around her on the impact. She managed to break free of his hold and clumsily scrambled to her feet. Sarah bolted away from him, he caught her hair and yanked her back, throwing her to the floor. He used his weight to keep her down.

"You give what I want to _him_ so freely," Cillian hissed through his teeth as he held her wrists above her head, "Are you going to make me take what I want by force?"

"Stop! Get off of me!" Sarah's body was writhing beneath him.

"You want me as much as I want you," he removed one of his hands and grabbed her face, he kissed her mouth roughly. She mumbled her protests and tried turning her head away. He released his hold and pushed her skirt up her legs. She felt the cool air on her exposed flesh and she knew she was going to be sick.

"Don't, Cillian!" she shouted weakly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

"Tell me you want me," he caressed her cheek.

"No! I only want Gala-"

Her words were cut off as he growled and pushed his palm down on her rib. She screamed out in pain and clenched her eyes shut.

"Please… stop," she whispered through her panting.

"I'll stop when I'm finished."

"Cillian! What if they are watching?" She looked him in the eyes, "Do you want Branwen to see you treating a woman like this?" His body went still as he listened. She shook her head sadly, "And do you really want your daughter Aine to see a monster, rather than her father?" She held her breath as she awaited his reaction, praying for the right one she was aiming for. His eyes softened suddenly, and she could finally recognize him again as the realization of his actions hit him like a boulder.

"Oh, Sarah." Cillian released her arms and fell limply onto her, "I'm so sorry." Sarah felt herself breathing again but was too afraid to move or do anything. After a moment of silence he crawled off her, "I have to go." He turned to look at her once more then disappeared from the home. When the door was shut, Sarah crawled quickly to it and locked it. She sat her back against it and covered her face with her trembling hands while her emotions released, gradually building up to utter hysteria. Her chest heaved as she attempted to pull air into her lungs, while bitter tears fell freely like never ending rain.

* * *

"Did you find them?" Galahad asked Tristan the moment he returned.

"I found two…" he answered, "They split up." He dropped a large pack on the table and it clanked against the wood, "How many did you see, Lancelot?"

"Three or four… I can't be certain," he shrugged his shoulders in frustration.

"So where are the two you found?" Arthur asked as he opened the satchel and examined the weapons.

"Dead." Tristan came to his side and picked up a sword, "These are Cillian's."

"I would have liked it if you were able to bring them back… _alive_," Arthur muttered.

"Well, they weren't too keen on the idea of coming back… they put up a fight." Tristan let the blade fall down with the others. His commander frowned but nodded in acceptance.

"So what about the others?" Gawain asked.

"Trail went cold. They're long gone," the scout shook his head.

"Well good riddance to 'em," Bors grumbled.

"How's Sarah?" Tristan asked no one in particular.

"She seems to be doing rather well, all things considering," Arthur answered.

"She's just putting on a brave face…" Lancelot spoke quietly, "You should have seen her before I got her here."

Galahad was nearly losing his mind with worry and was about to leave to see her when Vanora spoke, having the same idea.

"They've been gone a long time…" she stood and walked toward the exit, "I'm going to make sure everything's alright." As she left she could hear the men begin talking about the incident to Tristan in detail. She knew that's what it was coming to and she didn't want to hear anymore about it. Vanora strolled in the direction of Cillian's home, figuring that's where he would want to go. When she arrived there was a note nailed to the door, addressed to her. She unfolded the paper and read the message. She reread it three times before running to Sarah's. It didn't take long till she was pounding on the door.

"Sarah!" Vanora's voice cracked, "Are you there? Open up!"

"Go away," Sarah demanded.

"No! Let me in! Tell me what happened!" Vanora shook the letter in her hand, "Cillian's left and I need to know why!"

"Please, just go away!" Sarah cried through the barrier.

Vanora shook her head angrily, knowing that she wouldn't be able to persuade her.

* * *

"Vanora! What's wrong?" Bors sped to her side. She handed him the paper and wiped her wet cheeks with her sleeve. Bors read it quickly, mumbling the words out loud. The others tried to hear him but gave up half-way through. He sighed and hugged his crying lover, "Cillian's gone." He informed the men over her shoulder.

Vanora pulled away and spoke shakily, "I went to Sarah… to ask her what happened, and she wouldn't let me in. She sounded very upset."

In that instant, Galahad took off. The last part was all he needed to hear.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! And thanks for reviewing!_


	8. Ready or Not

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

_**Chapter Eight: Ready or Not**_

Gawain stood frowning, arms folded across his chest, "Galahad… What are you doing?"

"Chopping wood," he answered and brought the axe down.

"I can see that," Gawain looked at the already large pile of timber behind his friend, "But_ why_ are you chopping wood?"

Galahad sighed heavily and straightened himself to look at the man, "Because… it makes me feel better."

"I take it Sarah hasn't talked to you yet."

"No," he replied as he set another log on the platform, "It's been six days now. She's been locked up in that place and no one knows anything!" He swung violently and the wood split in two, "She won't even talk to Vanora."

Gawain raised his brows and sat on a nearby tree stump, "Give her time…"

"How much time?" Galahad snapped and shook his head, "Should I wait forever?"

"Try to be patient… I know that's difficult for you."

"I feel like I'm going mad!" he threw the axe to the ground, "Why is she doing this to me?"

"I don't think it has anything to with you," Gawain shifted in his seat.

"Damn that Cillian! I don't know for certain- because she won't _tell _anyone- but I think it has _something_ to do with him," Galahad kicked off the remaining broken wood and sat on the platform, "Why aren't we looking for that bastard?"

"For what reason? It's like you said- we don't _know _anything," Gawain tried rationalizing.

"I know he hurt her," he spoke and slouching over, elbows resting limply on his knees.

"How do you know that?" Gawain furrowed his brow.

"Because… he's done it before."

"When was this?"

"Last week," Galahad huffed, "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

"That bad, huh?" Gawain copied his posture and put his hands together, interlocking his fingers.

"_She _didn't think so…" he rolled his eyes, "I saw the marks on her neck."

Gawain gazed back at the stack of wood and breathed deeply, "I never would have thought he was capable of that- not that I know him very well… but still."

There was a long silence while they both thought to themselves.

"I just… I just wish she would let me help," Galahad spoke softly and sniffed. Gawain looked over to see him wipe his eyes quickly, trying to conceal his emotions.

"You love her," he stated.

"Yes," Galahad nodded.

"And she loves you?"

"I like to think so…" he smirked at the idea.

"Then she'll come to you, when she's ready," Gawain grinned, "And I really hope it's soon… I don't know how much more of this _I_ can take." He managed to get a laugh out of Galahad.

"Sorry."

"Ah, love. It's a disgusting thing," he teased and stood up, "Are you finished here, or do you still have more frustrations to take out?" He motioned to the axe. Galahad looked down at the blade that was shining in the evening sun and thought carefully for a moment.

"Nothing a few ales can't cure," he rose up to meet his friend.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Gawain patted him roughly on the back, "Let's go get you some medicine."

* * *

Sarah groggily descended the stairs, her body felt weakened from the excess of sleep. She hadn't gotten out of bed unless it was absolutely necessary. She passed the door and noticed a pile of letters on the floor. She vaguely remembered seeing them yesterday morning, but had no desire to bend over and pick them up. Today there seemed to be more. She groaned as she knelt down and gathered them, tossing them onto the table as she passed into the kitchen. Her stomach was growling from the lack of food. She tore off a chunk of bread and bit into it, chewing lazily. Sarah went to the papers and picked one up. She took a seat and unfolded it.

_Talk to me, Sarah. -Galahad-_

She sighed and let it float down, then preceded to read the others.

_Sarah, let me see you… -G-_

_Please, I need to know you're alright. -Galahad-_

_I miss you. I need you…it's getting hard to breathe without you. -Galahad-_

_Talk to __someone__, Sarah. They can tell me you're alright if you won't… And Vanora is very worried, too._

He stopped signing his name. She opened another and found sloppy writing.

_Sarah, please talk to Galahad! He's driving me insane! I may have to kill him, so save him while you still can. -Gawain-_

She chuckled to herself, imagining him writing it. She opened the last one and recognized the lettering immediately, "Vanora," she whispered into the air.

_Sarah, I don't know what happened between you and Cillian… But if you don't want to talk about it, I'll understand, as long as you agree to see me. Please, let me talk with you… I miss you and I'm very concerned. I lost my cousin, probably forever, don't deprive me of my best friend, too. -Vanora-_

Sarah dropped the bread on the table, feeling a spasm of shame, _"Ah, guilt. It's a powerful thing, Vanora." _She closed her eyes as she garnered the strength to get up and start living again. Maybe a bath would do some good.

As she reclined in the hot water she let her muscles relax. She examined her body and found that the bruises on her wrists were a faint shade of yellowish brown, not very noticeable. She was glad it was winter, she would wear long sleeves just to be safe. She began thinking of what she would tell everyone. Surely, there was going to be questions. Sarah began regretting her decision of solitude. How could she explain locking herself away from the world, not to mention her loved ones, for nearly a week?

"_Well… I did just lose everything to the fire. Certainly, that's a fairly good excuse. Galahad won't buy it,"_ she sighed loudly and sunk deeper into her bath, _"Perhaps, I'll tell them I got sick."_ She forced herself to stop thinking about it. After she had dried off, she picked out a burgundy dress. She glanced in the mirror and her skin was pale against the warm color. She looked almost gray and had dark circles under her eyes. "Well, at least I look the part," she muttered at her wan reflection.

She made her way to the door and found a new message.

_Sarah, this is the last letter I'm writing… But I'm not giving up. If I don't hear from you by the end of the night, I'll be breaking down the door. -G-_

"_I'm surprised he's waited this long,"_ she chuckled and refolded the paper. She opened the door to find Tristan, with his hand up ready to knock.

"Oh. Hello, Tristan," she greeted him and plastered on a fake smile.

"Hello, Sarah." He briefly looked her up and down, "You look terrible."

She rolled her eyes, "Thanks a lot."

"I see you're finally coming out of exile," A tiny smirk pulled at his lips but soon vanished, "You never showed to our appointment… Have you changed your mind?"

Sarah looked at him inquisitively then suddenly realized that he was talking about her training, "Oh! I'm sorry, Tristan… I completely forgot." He shrugged nonchalantly and she stepped outside, "And no, I haven't changed my mind… On the contrary, actually. I'm even more eager to learn… if you're still willing." He nodded and walked along side of her.

"Where are you heading?" he asked, keeping his vision on the ground ahead.

"Um, I was going to see Galahad," Sarah answered quietly.

"I think I saw him heading to the tavern," Tristan pointed in the opposite direction.

Sarah stopped and turned around, "Thanks."

"You look like you could use a drink yourself," he continued by her side.

"Do I really look that bad?" she glanced to him and smiled worriedly.

He shrugged, "You just need a little color… you look sickly."

"_Maybe that excuse will prove worthy, after all."_ Sarah nodded, "I don't feel my best."

"Are you going to tell anyone what happened with you and Cillian?" Tristan asked bluntly.

Sarah nearly stopped in her tracks, taken by surprise with the direct question, "There's, uh… not much to tell." She knew she was a terrible liar, especially when she had to do it on the spot with no time for preparation. She could feel him looking at her from the corners of his eyes, "We had a… disagreement. We were both very upset about the fire, and things just got out of hand." She cringed inwardly at her lame explanation.

"What does that mean- out of hand?" he questioned.

"I'm just saying that…" she sighed to herself, "If we both hadn't already been so unhappy, it probably wouldn't have escalated so much…" She rolled her eyes in frustration with herself, knowing that that description was the same as her previous one.

"That doesn't really answer my question," he stated, furrowing his brows.

"_Ugh, I know!"_ Sarah cleared her throat, "It really doesn't matter… it's in the past."

Tristan got the hint, so he didn't pry any further; deciding to respect her privacy.

* * *

"Gawain, you are such a fool," Galahad chuckled reluctantly at his friend's jokes.

"Sometimes," he agreed through his laughing, "But it's good to see you somewhat happy again."

"Yes, so drink up some more of that happy potion!" Lancelot agreed and slapped Galahad on the back while he sipped, causing him to choke on the ale.

"Cheers!" Gawain held up his mug to the men and gulped down the remains, then slammed the cup on the table. He and Lancelot started laughing ridiculously, it was something only a half-drunk person, or two, would think to be funny. Galahad looked at them and rolled his eyes, fighting his own amusement. He noticed that Gawain's laughter faded roughly and so he looked at the man. His gaze was fixed on something in the distance, over Galahad's shoulder. Gawain looked to him, grinning, and motioned with his eyes to look back.

Galahad furrowed his brow, but soon did as he was told. He found Tristan walking along side Sarah. He was so surprised to see her there that he thought his mind was playing tricks, so he blinked, praying that it wasn't a mirage and that she wouldn't disappear when he opened his lids. He quickly looked again and was overjoyed to see her still there, walking toward them. She kept her gaze to the ground, she hadn't noticed them yet, as she talked with Tristan.

Lancelot and Gawain shared a questioning glance. The latter kicked at Galahad's legs underneath the table, "What are you waiting for?" The young knight never looked back at them, he stood and walked dreadfully slow to the woman he loved. He watched as Tristan noticed him approaching, he touched Sarah's arm as a farewell and went to the bar. She watched him go, drawing a deep breath before she turned to look for Galahad. She was a little startled to see him now right in front of her. He stopped and stared at her in silence while a small grin played on his face.

She smiled shyly and looked down at his feet, speaking softly, "I decided that it was time to show my face again…" she chuckled nervously, "And I also wanted to save my door from your frustrations." She held up the note and waved it gently as she spoke. When she found the courage to meet his eyes again, she saw him smiling ear to ear.

"Well, I guess all I had to do was threaten you with force to get what I wanted," he teased and pulled a fake frown. His words churned her stomach, reminding her of the things Cillian said and did… or almost did. Galahad noticed the change in her demeanor, "Are you alright?"

She smiled and nodded weakly, "Yes… of course."

Galahad narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "Right… Um, I think that we should talk… In private."

"Alright, but let me say hello to Vanora first," Sarah spun around and walked to the bar.

He watched her every movement, trying to read her like a book, but this girl was a complete mystery to him sometimes, it was like pulling teeth to get any information from her. He observed Vanora hug her excitedly and they talked for what seemed like forever. They altered between smiles and frowns, questions were being asked but obviously never answered sufficiently; only heads nodding or shaking to confirm or deny. Galahad was becoming impatient, his chest tightening with dissatisfaction. He finally saw Vanora hug Sarah again, and it looked like she was making her promise something that Sarah agreed happily to.

She walked lightly back to him, "Sorry to make you wait…"

"I've waited a week, what's a few more minutes?" Galahad shrugged and began walking.

"_And the guilt trip begins…"_ Sarah pursed her lips and followed him.

* * *

He hadn't been lying when he said in private. He never once spoke until they were in his quarters and the door was shut. She suddenly felt very nervous, her palms were sweating and her face flushed. Was it hot in here, or was it just her? She stood near the closed entrance, watching as he sat on the bed and removed his boots. He tossed them to the side of the room and looked over to her. His face was blank of any emotion. Galahad scrutinized her form until she was nearly squirming under his gaze.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" He grinned slightly.

She shrugged and whispered, "Maybe." The fact that she was noticeably making herself look everywhere but at him was driving him crazy.

He stood and moved to her, taking her face in his palms, "Look at me, Sarah." He spoke gently and she willingly obeyed. He leaned down and kissed her lips so softly she could barely feel anything, yet, it was somehow one of the most intense moments she had ever experienced. He let it linger until he felt her body ease and pulled back to look in her eyes, "I've missed you." Galahad's words were slow and airy, it was impossible for Sarah not to hear the truth in them.

"I've missed you, too," she whispered.

"I love you, Sarah." He saw her eyes widen for a split second and a smile followed.

"I love _you_, Galahad." She was surprised at how easily the words were spoken. She had never said that to a man and she never imagined that she ever would before she met him. He kissed her again, only this time it was more passionate, and they held on to one another as tightly as possible. Their breathing came faster as their tongues explored the warmness of each other's mouth. They began undressing without breaking their embrace. It reminded Sarah of the first time they were together in this room and she smiled against his lips. He laid her down gently on the bed and straddled her hips. His pants and her shift were the only things separating them. The fire danced slowly in the background, turning their skin into glowing gold.

Galahad finally broke away but kept his face close to hers as he marveled at her beauty. He cupped her cheek in his palm and rubbed the silky flesh with his thumb. She couldn't stop smiling and the warmth he produced in her gave her face a healthy color again. Sarah brought her hand to his. Her skin felt cold against it. They continued their silent stare until Galahad was distracted and he furrowed his brow and frowned deeply. She mirrored his expression as she tried to figure what he was thinking. She followed his gaze to her wrist. The bruising was very noticeable in this light.

He sat up slightly and grabbed her arm firmly, bringing it to him to get a better look. Sarah drew it back out of his grasp and looked away. He immediately reclaimed it, holding tighter than before; ensuring his grip. His breathing was short and fast while the anger built up. She scrunched her eyes shut for a moment then forced herself to open them. She felt him take her other arm to examine it. She began to resist weakly but gave up. No use in trying to hide it now. Sarah watched as he placed his fingers over the marks. He closed his eyes and his jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth would break under the pressure.

"It's not what you think…" Sarah's words were nearly inaudible, but he heard them clearly, though he ignored her. He brought her wrists together and held them in one hand, his fingers matched the marks exactly and he understood. His body began to tremble in his fury. Galahad saw her open her mouth to speak.

"Don't," he shook his head and she shut her lips, "Please, for the sake of my sanity, don't dare make excuses for him."

Sarah's eyes welled with tears and her chin quivered, "I wasn't going to."

He raised his brows, "You need to tell me what happened. And do _not_ lie to me, Sarah."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, "It's really not what you think."

He pushed off her roughly and the bed shook as he stood quickly. He moved to the dresser, away from her; he didn't trust his temper right now. Galahad dug his fingers into the wood, she could see the muscles in his arms and back flexing.

"Galahad…" she whispered his name cautiously.

"He hurt you," his voice was a low growl.

"Yes," Sarah was too nervous to say anything more than an answer.

"Again."

"Yes… But worse."

"Did he… force himself on you, Sarah?" the words made him wince.

She thought for a moment, trying to figure how to answer, "No."

Galahad let out a loud roar and threw an object that Sarah didn't have time to recognize before it smashed into the wall, making her jump and close her eyes at the piercing sound, "Damn it, Sarah! I said don't lie to me!" His shouting echoed in the room and he punched the top of the dresser multiple times. The pain felt good to him. He needn't to feel it.

"I'm not lying," she shook her head and tears began to fall, "Calm down… and please don't yell at me." He narrowed his eyes, chest heaving and fists at his sides. The knuckles on his right hand were white from the tight squeezing of his fingers, but blood stained where his flesh was split. She had to admit that she was a little frightened of him, though she knew he would never hurt her. Not like Cillian. He looked away from her, trying to settle himself by taking deep breaths. Sarah cleared her throat quietly, "He didn't... But he tried." She felt Galahad's gaze return to her but she couldn't bring herself to look at him, "And that's the truth."

He stood silently for a moment, judging whether or not she was being honest, "He stopped?… Why did he?"

She nodded as she crossed her legs, "I was able… to talk him out of it." Galahad shook his head bitterly and bit his bottom lip. She could see him losing hold of his calm again, "Please don't be angry… I know I should have listened to you. You were right. I'm sorry, I _should_ have listened… I wish I had. But, please, don't be angry."

"I'm not angry," he scoffed at the word, "Anger doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling."

She hung her head in shame, "Is disgust a better word?"

"Why would I be feeling disgusted?"

Sarah stood quickly and made her way to him. She placed her hands on his chest, "I promise you… he didn't touch me."

He furrowed his brow, wide eyed, and his frown deepened as he realized what she was implying, "You think I'm disgusted with _you_? That I'm beyond angry with _you_?"

She shrugged slightly and chewed on the inside of her mouth, "I wasn't sure…"

Galahad pulled her into a tight embrace, "Well then, let me reassure you. I could never feel that way about you… You silly girl."

She laughed humorlessly and pulled away as she wiped the tears away, "Promise me something?"

He raised an eyebrow, "That depends on what it is."

She nodded and thought for a moment, "Promise me… that you won't look for him… or harm him."

He huffed and shook his head, "I'm not going to promise you that."

"Please, Galahad?" she closed her lids as she begged, "I know this may sound crazy… And it probably _is_- and don't get me wrong, most of me hates him- but… I used to love him and a part of me still does."

"You're right, that does sound crazy." He sat heavily on the bed and ran his hands through his hair.

"It's not a feeling that I can just change instantly… I can't help it," she leaned her back against the dresser across from him and looked down upon his bowed head.

"Well, try harder."

"Let it go, Galahad. He's gone… and I'm alright. Let us move on… together."

He nodded his head slowly and muttered, "Life goes on…"

"Whether we're ready or not." Sarah smiled and took his face in her hands, "Are _you_ ready, Galahad." She whispered his name.

"I am," he stood and hugged her, "I promise…"

"Thank you," she smiled into his shoulder.

* * *

"Say it again," Galahad beamed as Sarah lay naked beside him, tucked under his arm.

She giggled, "I love you."

"Pft, at least put my name in it."

She laughed again, "I love you, _Galahad_."

"That's better…" he kissed the top of her head, "And I love you."

"At least put my name in it!" she playfully echoed his words.

He looked down into her eyes, "I love you, Sarah. More than you know."

"Hmm…" she smiled slyly, "You may be right…" She lifted herself on top of him, straddling his body. She leaned down and kissed his neck, murmuring against the flesh, "Perhaps, you could prove it to me."

He raised his brows and grinned, "Again?"

Sarah sat up, looking down at him she narrowed her eyes, "Well… if you don't want to, I could just leave you in peace." She teased and began to get off him when he flipped her over.

"Oh, no. I _want_ to… but do you think _you _can handle it?"

She wrapped her leg around his waist, pulling him closer, "Only one way to find out."

* * *

The next morning Galahad sat on the edge of the mattress as he pulled on his boots slowly. He smiled as he felt the bed shifting.

Sarah's arms wrapped around him and she kissed his bare shoulder, "Mmm… Good morning."

He reached around and weaved his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer as he turned his head to kiss her lust swollen lips. He whispered into her mouth, "Good morning."

"Where are you off to so early?" she tilted her head as she gazed at the handsome man. It was almost painful for her to look at him. For some odd reason she began to feel self-conscious about herself. How did _she_ become so lucky to have _him_? And to have him _love_ her. She wondered if other people thought the same thing when they were together in public. She shook the thoughts from her mind. Sarah wasn't going to let her lack of self confidence ruin this for her.

"We have a meeting…" Galahad referred to himself and the other knights. He took a deep breath and hesitated, "We're leaving for a mission tomorrow."

Sarah swallowed as her heart faltered. Now she truly regretted her time away from him. She had selfishly wasted the days they could have spent together, "Oh."

He watched her sad expression, "I'm sorry… I should have told you sooner."

"Yes," she smiled weakly, "If I had known… I wouldn't have waited this long to see you." The room was silent. Sarah listened to the wind howling outside. The sudden fear that he might not come back weighed down heavily on her body. She closed her eyes and imagined the day he would return. Playing the scene in her head as she tried to will the future she hoped for.

"Sarah," Galahad took her hand and held it firmly, "Nothing is going to happen to me."

She looked to him quickly, finding sympathetic eyes. Could he read her mind? Perhaps, like always, her emotions were clear on her face. She never could hide her feelings.

Sarah nodded slowly, "What do you have to do?"

He grinned and shrugged, "We're going to patrol along the wall… make sure everything is secure."

He was making it sound so simple and Sarah saw right through it, "There is still danger involved." She muttered her words and looked away from him.

"Of course," Galahad conceded quietly, "But there is danger here, as well."

"_I_ feel safe… when I'm with you," Sarah quickly wiped a tear away.

"Don't worry," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "We'll be visiting forts, so we'll be safe behind the walls."

"But what about the time you travel between the forts?" she sniffed.

"It doesn't usually take more than a day between each… so we'll be traveling in the light." Galahad hoped that would somehow comfort her.

"Oh, are Woads afraid of the sun?" she replied sarcastically.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "Sarah, stop upsetting yourself. I've been doing this for almost fifteen years."

"Unscathed?" she looked at him defiantly. He laughed again and shook his head as a response. Sarah sighed heavily, "How long will you be gone?"

"Two weeks… maybe three… _probably _three," he answered solemnly, all humor had left him as he thought of the time away from her.

"That's a very long time," she spoke softly. Nearly a month! The thought of him being away for that long worried her… He would be at forts, like this one. Did they have taverns, like this one? Would they have whores to entertain the men, like this one? Would he grow tired of the loneliness and indulge his needs with another woman? All these thoughts had her in a near panic. And not to mention the worst fear of all; him not returning. She hadn't even noticed that more tears were streaming down her cheeks until Galahad wiped one away with his thumb, bringing her back into reality.

"Galahad," she looked into his eyes, she could see her own anxious expression reflecting in them, "promise me that you'll return safely."

He nodded, "I promise."

She hesitated for a moment, "And promise… promise that you won't forget me."

Galahad looked at her stunned, "Sarah, I love you! How could I forget about you?"

"I just…" she was becoming frustrated of trying to find a subtle way of saying what she felt, so she decided to just say it outright, "I don't want you to bed another woman!"

His shocked expression returned, but this time there was a slight amusement to it. Her jealousy was pleasantly surprising and stirred his passion. It also made him realize that _she_ was going to be alone _here _for weeks. Galahad now understood how she felt, for he was feeling the same way, "I wouldn't even think of it… I love _you_, Sarah." He brought his hand to her chin, making her look at him, "_You_. No one else could please me, now."

"Alright," Sarah smiled sadly.

"I'm not too keen on the idea of leaving _you _alone either," The side of his mouth pulled into a grin, "Promise me that you won't fall for another young, handsome, charming man and run off with him."

Sarah laughed at the idea, "I promise."

Galahad stood and finished dressing himself. She smiled and watched him as he ran his hands through his dark curls instead of using a brush. Sarah wanted it to be her fingers in his hair. She stood, the sheet wrapped around her body like a makeshift dress. Galahad thought she looked like one of the Roman goddesses he had seen depicted in drawings and statues. He welcomed her embrace and instantly caught her lips with his. They kissed ardently for many minutes, as if they were making up for lost time as well as the time they'd be apart.

He reluctantly pulled away, groaning as his passion argued strongly. He rested his forehead on hers with eyes closed, "I have to go… I'm already late." She groaned in her own disappoint. He kissed the tip of her nose, "You'll be here when I get back?"

Sarah wasn't sure if was referring to after the mission or just after the meeting, perhaps it was both, "If that's what you want," she teased and sprawled across the bed.

He gave her a warning look. If she didn't stop her come hither looks soon he'd have no way of resisting. He'd have to make love to her again, and then he'd be really late, "You're going to get me in trouble."

"You're already in trouble," she smiled devilishly, "For leaving… Be prepared for your punishment when you return."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he bent down and gave her a safe, quick peck on the cheek. He didn't trust his senses, so he kept the contact to a minimum. Galahad swiftly exited his quarters. The mere thought of the woman he loved lying in his bed, awaiting his return, made him feel like he was walking on air. He hoped that this meeting wouldn't last too long.

* * *

_Hello all! Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! They are much appreciated… _


	9. Stupid Beautiful Man

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

_Siana (SHAW nah)_

_Amon (AW muhn)_

**Chapter Nine: Stupid Beautiful Man!**

"Six! Don't pull your sister's hair!" Vanora yelled at the young boy from the other room. The girl cried out and hit her brother on his arm with a tiny fist.

"Ma! She hit me!" Six whined and Vanora sighed, exasperated with her children.

Sarah sat at the table with her friend while they tried to have a pleasant visit, observing the many children with an overwhelmed expression.

"Sorry… they always seem to act up more when their father isn't here to discipline them," the redhead explained as she tried to comfort the now crying baby in her arms.

"That's alright," Sarah smiled sympathetically to her. A little boy toddled up to her and put his arms out, silently asking to be held. Sarah smiled down at him and gladly placed him on her lap. She gently pinched his chubby cheek, "You're getting bigger everyday!" He pulled his face away, scrunching his nose, and began babbling in a language all his own. Sarah was able to pull out a few words: papa, mama, ara (which she figured was her name), and something to do with an apple. He started happily banging his palms on the table and his whole body bounced on her legs. She couldn't help but giggle at his zealous disposition.

"So, how are you doing, Sarah?" Vanora asked over the noise.

Sarah shrugged as she handed the youngster a toy horse, "I'm trying to be patient…" Which wasn't an easy thing. Galahad and the others had been gone for over two weeks. Every night she prayed to a God she said she no longer believed in. How could it hurt? That was her logic and it actually seemed to help somewhat. But not much. A sudden high pitched scream came echoing down the hall.

"One, two and three! Come here now!" Vanora hollered and stood, rocking the still crying baby. She tapped her foot impatiently on the floor as the three children filed into the room. They were all smirking slyly. "Wipe those smiles off yer faces!" She demanded in a firm tone and they instantly did as they were told, "What's going on in there? I don't want to have to go and find out meself- do I?" The two boys and young girl shook their heads quickly. Vanora put her chin up as she eyed them suspiciously, "Good. Now, all of you, take your younger siblings and go play outside."

"But it's cold out there!" Two complained.

"Go! Now!" she pointed to the door. The three moped away to get their coats and the other kids.

"Out! Out!" The tot nearly fell off Sarah's lap as he leaned for the exit, she struggled to balance him.

"No, no, nine." Vanora cooed, "You're staying in here with us."

"Yes, you don't want to go out into the icky cold," Sarah tickled his sides and he squirmed and laughed wildly. A blur ran by and was grabbed by the mother.

"Gilly," she forced him to look her in the eyes, "Try not to get into any fights, alright?"

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, "Yes, mother." He glanced to Sarah and smiled shyly.

"Gilly? Fighting? No," she shook her head, "Not _my_ Gilly." He blushed fiercely and looked away.

"Hi, Sarah," he mumbled and turned quickly, running for the door, "Bye, Sarah!"

The two women laughed and all was quiet. Well, _quieter_. The toy horse was being trotted across the table top and the infant was whimpering softly.

"Do you think tomorrow?" Sarah asked, knowing that Vanora would understand that she was talking about the knights returning.

She shrugged, "I don't know… maybe." she smiled to the young woman holding her child, "I hope so… I miss Bors… Although, I don't know why! Sometimes he's more trouble than he's worth!"

"Aw, but you love him," Sarah smiled softly.

"Aye, I do…" she looked off into space, "The bastard."

"Down!" Number nine was bored with the conversation. Sarah released him safely on the floor and he settled with a pile of toys in the corner.

"I hope spending time with me doesn't turn you off to the idea of having children," Vanora chuckled as she began to breast feed the baby.

"Oh… No, I love these little ones," she replied.

"That's 'cause you don't have to live with 'em," Vanora snorted, "I think I'm expecting again."

Sarah's eyes went wide with surprise, "Already?"

She nodded as she watched number ten, "Yes."

"Wow… Congratulations." It almost sounded like a question. Sarah wasn't sure if Vanora was happy or not, so she didn't know for certain what she should say.

"Thank you. I'm excited," she replied smiling.

"Wow," Sarah repeated and looked at her friend, "I'm sorry… I'm just surprised. I'm really happy for you."

"That's alright, I was surprised too…" she started laughing, "Not as surprised as Bors though!" She pulled a mock expression of his reaction and Sarah couldn't contain her laughter either.

"But really, I don't know how you do it." Sarah said through her chuckling, "After my first child, I'll be making certain that there's no chance to have another within at _least_ three years."

"And how will you do that?" Vanora asked skeptically, "No sex?" Sarah shrugged and nodded. The older woman laughed heartily again, "Well, good luck with that! I don't think Galahad will be too happy with that idea."

Sarah blushed at her assumptions. She began wondering what he'd be like as a father. Did he even want to have kids? What would their children look like? Would they be as beautiful as him? She quickly pushed the thoughts away. She didn't want to get her hopes up. He still had to come back. She then chastised herself for thinking negatively and began praying for his safety. There was a war going on in her mind and both sides were losing.

"Sarah…" Vanora broke through her thoughts, "He'll be back soon."

"I know… I just hate waiting," she whispered, "And it's worse when we don't know _anything_."

"Welcome to my world."

"How do you do it? Be so patient?" she asked, looking at the woman, hoping that there was some sort of trick to make it easier.

"I keep meself busy…" she shrugged, "Which isn't difficult with ten children." Sarah was disappointed with the answer. She didn't have that option. Vanora continued, "Have you thought of finding work?"

"Do you think you could use some help around the tavern?" she asked halfheartedly.

"Maybe," Vanora smiled at the idea of having her around more, "I'll ask the owner." Sarah nodded as she twirled a strand of her hair while observing number nine at play. Vanora continued, "You could always baby sit for me." Sarah shot her a worried look and made the woman giggle, "Only joking."

* * *

After her visit with Vanora, Sarah was back in her warm home. She was puttering. Again. It was all she seemed to do these days. She had far too much free time on her hands. She stood in her kitchen absentmindedly as she wiped down an already spotless counter. Sarah was cleaning. Again. It was the fourth time this week, so needless to say, the place was far from dirty. She sighed with boredom. She wondered how the men were doing… one in particular. Were they getting closer to the fort? She hoped so.

Sarah looked out the window. The sun was setting, peaking out between the green earth and gray clouds, casting a warm yellow hue across the lands. It was rare to see the sun in winter, so she continued gazing at the horizon, letting the rays soak into her pale skin. She watched until it disappeared completely. This was her least favorite time of day. Vanora had told her that they would probably return during light, they rarely traveled at night. All Sarah could do this evening was keep hoping for tomorrow. Was this considered too early for bed? She figured so and sighed as she walked to a shelf. She picked out a random book, never once looking at what it was. She settled onto a couch and wrapped her body with a throw. Curling her legs up, she opened the cover and her eyes glanced over the letters routinely. She turned the page and realized she still had no idea what she was reading. Sarah threw her head back, letting out a frustrated groan and slammed the book shut.

It wasn't fair! Why is it that time drags by unbelievably slow when you're miserable, and then flies swiftly by when you're happy? It was truly and cruelly unfair!

"Ugh!" Sarah growled at the ceiling, "I need a drink." She tossed the book on the cushions beside her and made her way to the door. She wrapped a heavy emerald green cloak around her shoulders and exited.

The light was dim outside and the cold air was invigorating. She could already feel the effects of it as her gloomy mood lifted. Sarah smiled as a few people passed and they returned the greeting. She wasn't the only one enjoying the freshness of the winter night.

When she reached the tavern she found that it was fairly crowded, but nothing like the time she had worked there. Not like when the knights had returned.

"Hi, Vanora," Sarah leaned against the counter smiling. The woman turned with a look of surprise, but happy to see her.

"Sarah!" she chimed and threw a rag over her shoulder, "Is this visit for business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure," Sarah grinned, "Can I get some wine?"

Vanora looked at her slightly suspicious, or perhaps it was a look of disapproval, "Sure… Are you drinking alone now?"

"_Disapproving,"_ Sarah determined silently, "I just need something to calm my nerves…" She shrugged and watched the barmaid fill the order.

"Oh, alright," Vanora slid the goblet to her."Thank you," Sarah began to gulp it down like she was dying of thirst.

"That isn't water, you know," the disapproval still evident in her voice.

Sarah placed the empty cup down and pushed it back, "One more…"

Vanora narrowed her eyes at the girl but decided not to argue and refilled it. Sarah retrieved it, but took smaller sips this time, not wanting to be lectured by her friend, who was staring at her with a rather concerned countenance. She wondered what the woman was thinking about her. Sarah honestly didn't care too much, she just wanted to be able to have some fun. Was that so bad?

"Well, I'll let you get back to work, Vanora." She straightened herself and went to find an empty table. There was a small one, with only two chairs, near the back. That was perfect. She sat in the seat that had the best view of the place. This way, she could watch the people, and hopefully be entertained by it all.

The night began to pass quicker than before. Sarah was on her third glass, much to the unease of Vanora, who she could see watching over her while serving the other patrons. Sarah buried her face in the cup, looking over the rim, she met the dark eyes of a very handsome young man across the tavern. She swiftly diverted her gaze away from his. Although, his face was vividly burned into her mind as if she was looking at him this very minute. He had black curly hair, which his eyes nearly matched, his skin was darker than the usual men of the fort, his face was square with a strong jaw. He was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen.

Her curiosity got the best of her. She glanced back in his direction, wondering if he was still looking at her. To her surprise, he was. He gave her a tiny smile and a nod of his head. Sarah wondered if she should return the gesture, or would that be like an invitation? The wine made the decision for her. And to her great despair, and also strange excitement, he was making his way over to her table. Sarah began to panic, she kept her vision on the rippling wine, her hands were shaking, causing it to wave the red liquid. She tried to pretend she hadn't noticed him. Maybe he would get the hint and change his mind.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" His voice was smooth and velvety, and laced with a strong accent she had never heard. He surely wasn't a local or a Roman. She slowly looked back up to him and silenced her gasp that tried to escape her gapping mouth. He was even more beautiful up close. _Too _beautiful. Was he some God sent to her in the form a man? Or perhaps he was something more sinister. A devil in disguise looking to seduce young women who already had lovers, who were certainly satisfied enough never to betray the man they loved. She suddenly felt like prey. His expression changed, a look of embarrassment crossed his lovely features. Sarah had unconsciously narrowed her eyes at him as she thought of the reasons for his ridiculous handsomeness.

"Oh. Um, sure," The wine began speaking for her, too. She removed her feet she had propped up on the seat across from her.

He sat down gracefully, "My name is Amon." He held out his hand, palm up. She looked at it like it was going to bite her. Even his hand was perfect. No scars, cuts, calluses or blemishes of any kind.

"_Stupid beautiful man!"_ She couldn't fully understand why she was so put off by him, "Nice to meet you, Amon." She muttered as she took another sip.

He pulled his hand back when she didn't offer hers and smiled unsurely, "Do you have a name?"

Sarah giggled nervously, "Yes, it's S-" she paused for a moment, perhaps she shouldn't give him her real name, "Siana."

Amon gave her a genuine smile, "Nice to meet you, Siana."

She glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the bar, she saw Vanora staring, wide eyed with surprise. And of course, disapproval. Sarah quickly looked back to the man, "Where are you from, Amon? You have an accent I cannot recognize." Conversation was suddenly easier.

"Egypt," he replied and she raised her brows.

"Wow… you're far from home."

"I've been traveling throughout the empire for a long time," he leaned back in his chair comfortably, "I've been in Britain for nearly half a year. I find the scenery quite beautiful." He looked at her intensely as he smiled that gorgeous grin of his.

Sarah swallowed. Was there a hidden message in those words? Maybe it wasn't so hidden. She blushed fiercely at his flirtation, though her cheeks were already flushed from the amount of wine she had consumed. Sarah knocked back the rest and slammed the empty goblet on the table with more force than she had intended.

"Can I buy you another?" Amon didn't wait for an answer as he waved to a barmaid and motioned for a refill by holding up the cup. Sarah felt a strong pang of guilt. She began to worry that this was terribly wrong to accept a drink from any man that wasn't Galahad.

"That's really not necessary…" she took the cup from him, "I was probably going to leave soon." Before she had finished speaking, the girl came over. She was staring intently at Amon. Who could blame her?! Amon, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice her as his eyes were locked on Sarah.

"Can I get _you _another, sir?" the girl had the voice resembling a child.

"No, thank you," Amon replied, never looking away from the woman he knew as Siana. The girl cut her eyes to Sarah, narrowed them in jealousy, and spun around, her hair swinging over her shoulder at the jerky motion and bobbed as she walked away swiftly.

"You're here alone." He stated.

"So?" Sarah asked warily.

"Well, if you are leaving soon…" He tilted his head slightly, "You're certainly not going to walk home by yourself?"

"Oh," Sarah mentally slapped herself. She hadn't taken that into account. She was surely not walking the dark streets alone. Not again. But she wasn't planning on letting him walk with her either. She didn't know the man! She determined she would have to stay here at the tavern until the sun rose. Which wasn't a plan she liked one bit. With the thought of no sleep at all, her eyelids felt heavy. And besides, if she stayed here all night, would he not leave? She felt utterly stuck.

"Where is your husband?" Amon's head was bowed as he traced the rim of his mug with a long, perfect finger. He was looking from under his black eyebrows, trying to seem uninterested in the anticipated answer.

"I don't have one," Sarah shrugged.

"A lover?" he arched one thick brow, suddenly more interested.

"He's…" she furrowed her own, "he's not here at the moment." Amon was looking at her strangely. He seemed disappointed that she _did_ have a lover, but not surprised. But that explanation didn't quite match his expression. Did he think she was lying?

"He was called out to duty," Sarah tried to convince him.

"Hm… Does he know you're here?" he motioned to the tavern surrounding them.

"How would he? I don't even know where _he_ is."

"How do you think he would feel if he knew?" he leaned closer to her. Sarah copied his movements, he was somehow drawing her in.

"How would he feel that I was here? Or here with _you_?" she nodded her head, motioning to him.

"Both," he grinned, flashing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth from behind his velvety lips. Sarah nearly fell out of her seat. She felt the strongest urge to run. But she also felt an even stronger urge to kiss him. And then, in that moment and feeling, Sarah figured out exactly _why _she had such an aversion to Amon. He was making her feel things only Galahad should. And it scared her. He was tempting her, whether intentionally or not, to betray the only man she has ever loved. And she hated him for it. But she hated herself more, for at this very moment she was fantasizing what it would like to kiss this lovely man. And as the dreaming progressed, it didn't stop at just kissing. No! This is ridiculous! This is just the wine going to her head. Plus, the loneliness. Yes, that was it and nothing more.

"I'm not sure," Sarah shook her head, while also trying to shake the impure visions in her mind. She then became suspicious of Galahad. If she was having this difficult a time, how on earth was _he _faring? Did he have a woman as beautiful as the man across from her sitting near him? Or worse.

"Well, if I was him, I wouldn't let you out of my sight," Amon drank again.

"_Well, you're not!"_ She wanted to yell at him. Sarah decided to settle for changing the subject, "So, Amon, how did you end up here?"

"Like I said before," he seemed willing to drop the subject of her lover, "I've been traveling a long time… I grew tired of not having a place to call home.""Are you saying, that you've decided to make _this_," she pointed at the table, to indicate the fort, "you're new home?" The question came out somewhat rudely. This was unbelievable! He can't live here! No, he must leave… now!

"Does that bother you, Siana?" he asked straight faced, not at all offended with her sharp tone. He was actually somewhat amused.

"No," she shifted uncomfortably and muttered, "Why would it?"

"I don't rightly know."

"So, when did you make this decision?" she asked quickly.

"About three days ago."

"Oh, when did you arrive?"

"Three days ago," he chuckled. The vibrations traveled down his toned arm, through the wood of the table, and finally to Sarah's hand resting on the top. She pulled away like it hurt. But it wasn't painful at all. On the contrary. He smirked at her reaction, "I was looking into finding work at the infirmary."

"You are a healer?" Sarah asked.

"I suppose I am," he shrugged casually. Smart _and _exquisite! He continued, "I was told to talk with a man, Artorius Castus."

"Arthur." Sarah stated.

"You know him?" he asked, hopeful.

"I've spoken with him a few times, yes." She nodded.

"Oh, perhaps you could introduce me to him."

"Um… I don't think I know him well enough to make introductions," Sarah shifted again, "Sorry."

"That's alright…"

"He's not here anyway," she explained.

"Yes, I was told that I could also speak with Jols, but I can't seem to cross paths with him." He sighed, "It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack."

"I could probably point you in the right direction," she smiled kindly.

"That would be much appreciated." Amon returned the gesture and Sarah's faded instantly as she became dazzled with his.

"How old are you, Siana?" he asked after taking another sip.

"I'll be twenty-four in a few months," she answered.

"When is your birthday?"

"The twenty-first of April… why?" she spoke warily.

"Just wondering… you are born on the same day Rome was founded." He pointed out.

"Yes, my father was quite pleased with that."

"He is Roman?"

"Yes… you seem to know history." She gulped down some more wine.

"It's a favorite subject of mine. I believe everyone should know it… they could learn a lot, by remembering mistakes of the past."

Sarah nodded, "So, how old are you?"

"Twenty-six," he scratched his dark stubble as he replied.

"_A year younger than Galahad,"_ She thought to herself for no apparent reason.

* * *

Amon and Sarah sat laughing. The moon had passed over them, it hung behind him, and she knew that it was shining its silver light on her. They had been talking for hours. Though, Sarah had no bad intentions, and she began to realize that neither did he. They were merely enjoying each other's company, as they were both alone in this place.

"So, what is that you do for a living, Siana?" he asked.

"I used to own a jewelry shop… but it was destroyed in a fire a few weeks ago." She answered glumly, remembering the whole event quite well.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he frowned sympathetically, "What do you intend to do now?"

"I was thinking of working here," she looked around as she answered.

"Here?" he stared at her skeptically.

"What?" she asked smiling.

"You just don't seem to be the tavern-girl type," he shook his head chuckling.

"Oh really?" Sarah crossed her arms across her chest, "And what type of girl _do _you think I am?"

Amon looked upon her form carefully, gathering his information, before he answered, "Well, you are very beautiful, but you don't believe that. Not to say you're self-conscious, but you are very modest. And you seem to be very loyal…"

"Loyal? To whom?" She interrupted his observances.

"Your lover… wherever he is." He chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at him, "Please, don't get me wrong, I'm not full of myself, but most women in your position would have been trying to get me back to their place hours ago."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Sarah replied sarcastically. _"Cocky bastard."_

He laughed again, "No need to apologize. I'm quite pleased with keeping up with just conversation… It's refreshing."

"Yes, it's nice just talking."

"So, what about me?"

Sarah looked at him inquisitively.

He grinned, "What type of man do you think I am?"

"Oh, um." She became flustered and shook her head, smiling, "I don't know."

"You must have some opinion of me."

Sarah studied him, like he had her, before answering, "I think you are very… _confident_." He laughed heartily then motioned for her to go on, "You're very handsome, and you know it. Though, obviously as you informed me, you don't always like that fact. You're also very smart, perhaps so you could prove to other's that you're not just a pretty face." Sarah waited to see his reaction, it was _he_ that narrowed his eyes as she teased him. She held back her smile and continued, "But, you also seem to be very kind and generous." She lifted her wine to him as an example. It was the second one he had bought her.

"Well, you're very welcome," he toasted his mug to her cup. As they drank, the table jolted violently as a sturdy foot kicked one of its legs. It startled them both, and Amon's ale dribbled down over his tunic. He looked up to the person with a deadly glare, ready to kick their ass. He noticed Sarah's face looked as if she had been caught in the act of something sinful.

"Bors!" Sarah jumped up, knocking the table again and Amon had to steady the drinks before they spilled, "You're back!" She hugged the stout man tightly, he seemed hesitant, but soon wrapped an arm around her. He shot daggers down at the dark man from over Sarah's shoulders.

"Yes, Sarah, I'm back." Bors pulled away, his cold stare moved to her face.

"Sarah?" Amon whispered as he stood, examining the other man that he hadn't noticed until now standing next to the one called Bors.

"Tristan," Sarah moved to him and gave him a small embrace.

He pulled her aside, "We're _all_ back." His eyes narrowed as he looked to the stranger then back to her.

"Right," Sarah nodded, understanding that Galahad will be looking for her.

"He should be here any moment," Tristan whispered to her, giving her a heads up.

"Do you think I should wait, or go home?" she asked anxiously, biting her bottom lip that was stained burgundy from the wine.

He looked at her and shrugged.

"Vanora said it was probably a good idea to check up on you and your…_ friend_." Bors sneered at the word.

Sarah quickly looked back at the bar to find the woman, she was smiling sheepishly and mouthed an apology. Sarah rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the men, "So you've all returned safely and unharmed?"

The knights nodded, Tristan sat in Sarah's seat and began toying with a dagger. If he was trying to look intimidating, it was working. Amon kept his eye on him and the blade.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear that!" Sarah smiled happily, "I was going crazy with worry.""Oh, I can see that," Bors laughed humorlessly. She closed her eyes as she received his subtle scolding.

"So, where _are _the others?" she asked timidly.

"Lancelot was with us… until we saw you," Tristan muttered darkly.

"Yeah, he couldn't wait to find Galahad," Bors pushed past her, "Who are you?" He came within inches of Amon's face.

"My name is Amon," he answered, looking down at the shorter man.

"And who are you to Sarah?"

"Who are _you _to her?" Amon retorted, obviously perturbed with the man's rudeness.

Bors swiftly grabbed two handfuls of his tunic and roughly pulled him closer.

"Bors stop! He's just a friend…" Sarah placed her hand on his arm and made him release his grip.

"Sarah!" Her name was being called happily from the other side of the tavern. She recognized the voice before she turned to see who had said it. Galahad. Lancelot and Gawain flanked his sides, the former looking darkly at her.

She smiled widely at Galahad as he rushed through the crowd toward her. She met him half-way and hugged him tightly, he lifted her up and kissed her mouth. She had to remind herself that they were in a public place and to keep their passion at a reasonable level.

"I'm so happy you're back!" Sarah squeezed him tighter, "And surprised."

"I'm happy too," he pulled away to look into her eyes, "I've missed you." He crushed her lips with his. They tasted like pure wine. He pulled back again, "Have you been drinking? And who with?" he looked past her to where she had been. He found Bors and Tristan near a man he didn't recognize.

Sarah noticed his expression harden, "We've just been talking…" She muttered the words and shrugged, trying to convince him that it was no big deal.

"Well, let me introduce myself," Galahad held her hand, leading the way. Amon turned to face the approaching couple and smiled slightly at Sarah.

Galahad put out his free hand to the man, "I'm Galahad." Sarah was surprised to see him smiling. Was it genuine?

"Amon," he accepted the knight's hand and nodded. He cringed slightly as Galahad squeezed it harder than necessary. The two men were scrutinizing each other with forced grins.

"So I hear you've been keeping Sarah company in my absence," Galahad looked to the girl beside him as he spoke. She was staring down, not making eye contact with any of the men surrounding her.

Amon shifted on his feet, "I suppose you could say that… though not for your entire absence, only the last few hours."

"_Hours?"_ Galahad fumed silently. Sarah felt his grip tighten painfully and she sucked in a sudden breath. He loosened it immediately, "I see." He placed his arm around her tense shoulders, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Amon."

"And nice to meet you as well, Galahad. I've heard a lot about you… And _Sarah_," Amon stressed her name, reminding her that she had lied to him and she blushed again, "She had nothing but good things to say.""That's good to hear," Galahad seemed disinterested.

"Let me say, that you are a very lucky man," Amon grinned at Sarah.

"I completely agree," Galahad hugged her shoulders with his arm and spoke to her, "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

She smiled and nodded, "Yes… I think I'm ready to go home." Galahad didn't hesitate, he turned them around and began to walk away. She looked back, "Nice talking with you, Amon." She didn't want to be rude, but it wasn't the _best _idea she'd had. Galahad sped up the pace.

They were soon far away from the tavern.

Galahad continued to lead Sarah, his arm never left her. Which she was happy about, it steadied her body that would have been wavering from the amount of alcohol she'd had. She debated whether or not to wrap her arm around his waist. Would he welcome it? Or was he angry? To hell with it! Sarah did what she wanted, which was for him to be closer to her. She was happy when he smiled at her affections.

"Now, when you said you wanted to go home…" he glanced down at her, still grinning, "Did you mean your place- or mine?" The last option was drenched in hope as it left his lips. She smiled widely at the fact that he wanted her to consider his place as her home.

"Yours," she answered happily and he kissed her forehead.

* * *

Sarah lay comfortably on the mattress, Galahad supported himself above her. His eyes were closed as he was enjoying the sensation of their lovemaking. She took a handful of his damp hair and led him to her face, kissing him hungrily. He moaned gently against her supple lips and rested his forehead on hers while he continued the pleasing motions. Sarah closed her lids, hoping to intensify her other senses by blinding herself, concentrating only on the touch of her body with his. She snaked her arms under his and bent them until she was holding his shoulders in her hands, pulling his weight down and bringing him closer.

"I love you," Galahad whispered huskily into her ear, his breath was warm and sent a shiver through her tingling body.

"Mmm, I love you, too," she tightened her grip. He lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist, and began to kiss her neck. She let out a moan of pleasure, he smiled against her flesh and continued more fervently, knowing she was enjoying it. Sarah's mind began to wander. To a place she didn't welcome, or rather, a _face_ that was certainly not welcome in this moment. Sarah gasped quietly, _"What is wrong with me?!"_ she was yelling at herself, _"How could I even see Amon's face while I'm here with Galahad?! I love him with all my heart, and here I am thinking of another man!"_ Sarah squeezed her eyes shut in shame, but she reopened them as the stranger's face crossed her mind again, _"This is wrong…" _Sarah released her hold of Galahad and moved her hands to rest on his biceps.

"Stop," her voice was just a whimper, and still filled with lust. Galahad didn't respond. _"Did he not hear me?"_ She cleared her burning throat and forced her voice to be louder, "Stop." She pushed on his chest gently to get his full attention.

He stopped his motions to look at her, but remained in contact with her trembling form, "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry," Sarah's eyes looked away to the side, "I can't do this."

"What?" he asked in disbelief, "Are you serious?" He furrowed his brows as he examined her expression with concern, "Why?"

"I just can't…" her voice cracked, "Please… Can we stop?"

Galahad nodded reluctantly and muttered, "Of course." He removed his body from hers and lay heavily on the mattress, making it bounce. He brought up the sheet, covering their naked bodies. They both stared at the ceiling in silence. It was an awkward silence, and it seemed to last forever. Sarah began to wonder if he had fallen asleep, he was being so quiet. She mustered the courage to look over at him, trying to be as subtle as possible so he wouldn't notice. She found that his eyes were wide awake and his face had an unreadable expression.

Sarah drew a quiet breath before she spoke softly, "Are you angry?" She waited to hear his voice. She _wanted _to hear it, even if he yelled. He didn't answer and that was the worst thing he could have done. Tears welled in her eyes, "You're angry." She answered for him and turned back to staring at the ceiling, pulling the linen up to her chin.

"I'm not angry," Galahad's voice surprised her, it was flat, "I'm… _confused_." He turned and met her sad countenance. He propped his body on its side, supporting it with his elbow and whispered, "Will you not tell me what's bothering you? Is it something I did?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Galahad," Sarah gulped, "There is something wrong with _me_."

He chuckled softly, "I don't believe that. I _can't_ believe that… Tell me, Sarah."

"No… it will only make you mad," she turned her back to him. She felt him scoot closer and his hand touched her shoulder, pulling gently, trying to get her to look at him. She shrugged it off. His face fell, although she couldn't see it.

"Sarah," Galahad whispered as he neared his face to hers, "I promise not to get mad."

She stayed silent as she pondered what to do. He began to think she wasn't going to explain when she suddenly spoke, "Were you upset to find me at the tavern tonight?"

"Honestly?" he asked and she nodded, "Yes." He waited for her to respond, but she never did so he continued, "And it didn't help that you were with that man."

"He approached me," she hurriedly reassured him.

"Of course he did…" he stated, "What did you expect? That men would leave you alone?" He laughed to himself, "A single woman drinking alone isn't exactly a deterrent, Sarah. Quite the opposite, actually."

"I just wanted to have a drink…" She finally turned on her other side to face him, "Attracting attention never crossed my mind… I was too busy thinking of you."

He grinned, "Well, do me a favor… don't do that again."

She frowned, "Go to the tavern alone? Or talk to another man?"

"Both."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "You were jealous?"

"Very."

"Well, there was nothing to be jealous of," Sarah explained in a blasé tone, "We were just talking and-"

"Sarah." His tone was severely even, "Don't do it again."

His possessiveness nearly infuriated her, yet, in the next instant she found it very arousing.

"I don't like being told what to do, Galahad," she informed him.

"I'm not joking, Sarah." He warned.

"Neither am I." She retorted, "What would you do if I did not obey your _command_? Kill the man I speak to?"

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"That's ridiculous," Sarah laughed humorlessly, "I'd hate to see what you'd do to him if he were to touch me!"

"He'd hate to see that as well," Galahad's voice was still serious. Sarah was taken aback by his cold tone. She could visibly see that this conversation was not making him happy. She realized she was getting some strange pleasure from his jealousy and attempted control of her.

"And would I go unpunished?" Sarah unconsciously bit her bottom lip, "If so, where is my motivation to behave?"

Galahad's vision shifted to her mouth as he realized what she was doing. He grinned slightly, "Are you trying to provoke me?"

"Of course not," she couldn't help but smile as she lied.

He let out a low growl, "Liar." In less than a second he was on top of her, devouring her lips that still tasted of the sweet wine, and their lovemaking resumed at a more frantic pace.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! This was a long chapter so it took me a little longer to post, sorry. Special thanks to TragicCure and peachpage who actually reviewed chapter eight! Peachpage, your review made me laugh! girl sigh indeed. Hope you enjoyed! More to come! By the way, don't worry about Amon, he's not going to be a love interest for Sarah. She would never be unfaithful to Sir Galahad! Hehe._


	10. Look, But Don't Touch

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**Chapter Ten: Look, But Don't Touch**

March was coming to an end and spring's entrance was still continuing to roar in with thunderous storms. Despite the irritable weather, things at the fort seemed to be calm. But nobody really spoke of the peace and quiet, they merely went on with their routine as any other day, perhaps; afraid to tempt fate and the serenity would vanish. And though people did not express their tranquility with words, it was easily read on the smiling faces. Two months had passed since the knights returned safely from their long journey and Sarah couldn't begin to explain how relieved she was that they were all alive and unharmed. She wondered if her prayers had actually paid off, or if it was just coincidence; a very_ wonderful _coincidence.

Sarah stood in the washroom as she pulled her hair back into a twist that crowned where her neck and hairline met. She removed the last pin from between her teeth and pushed it into place. She huffed in frustration as a few tendrils refused to cooperate but soon accepted it and gave up trying to force them back. Sarah wrapped a tan piece of cloth around her waist to resemble a skirt, when in fact, it was merely a cover to hide the light brown breeches she wore underneath. She was on her way to meet Tristan for their training session. He'd been teaching her for a month, making sure things were settled down completely before jumping into a less important matter. Though, she didn't exactly feel that her knowing how to defend herself was unimportant, but less so in comparison to the ever warring world around her.

The sessions were going, for lack of a better word, alright. Certainly not as well as she, and probably Tristan, had hoped. She had no idea what she was doing and she could tell that he sometimes became impatient, though he was never discouraging; which she greatly appreciated due to the fact that she discouraged herself enough for the both of them. At one point she wanted to give up entirely but he strongly convinced her that she needed to continue. And by saying 'strongly convinced', meaning he had reminded her with vivid detail why she was doing it. Details that she didn't even know he was aware of. How _did_ he know so much? She figured it was the ways of a scout.

Sarah opened the door softly and closed it silently behind her as she entered the bedroom. She paused to examine Galahad sleeping. She smiled and furrowed her brow at his position that looked extremely uncomfortable. Sarah picked up her shoes and walked around the bed, sitting on the mattress gently so she wouldn't disturb his slumber.

"Going to work?" He mumbled sleepily. His voice was hoarse and it sounded nasally.

She and Galahad had argued for hours the day Vanora informed her that she was now employed at the tavern. He made it clear that he didn't want her to work there and tried to persuade her to find an occupation in a field less surrounded by drunken men. Sarah explained that she had no experience in the 'normal' labors of a woman; she wasn't a very good cook and she had never learned to sew. Galahad stubbornly argued that she could learn. She assured him that she would be working with Vanora and asked why he had such an aversion to the option when Bors didn't mind that his lover practically ran the place.

His answer was simple: He wasn't Bors and she wasn't Vanora.

Sarah decided to compromise with him. She asked him to allow her a week and see what happened. He agreed, reluctantly, and every night he was there to observe her, not to mention the actions of the other men. When he found no reason to use against her, he had to concede.

"Yes," she turned to face him, his eyes were still closed, "How are you feeling?" Galahad had been sick for the past few days. He didn't have a fever but he felt terrible over all.

"Tired…" he answered through a yawn that made him cough. She leaned over and rubbed his convulsing chest, hoping to soothe him. He groaned with discomfort as his lungs settled.

"Do you want me to make you some tea? It may help…" Sarah began to lace her boots.

"No," Galahad shook his head weakly, "I don't think I can drink anymore for the rest of my life." Whenever he had woken, which was often in his uncomfortable restlessness, he had drank nothing but tea in hopes to alleviate his sore throat.

She chuckled, "Alright…" She had finished with her shoes and knelt on the mattress beside him. She leaned down and kissed his pale cheek, "Get some more rest. I'll be back later."

"Are you sure you want to come back? I don't want _you_ to get sick."

"Don't worry about me, just worry about getting better." She kissed him again and he nodded, closing his lids.

* * *

Sarah secured the bag on her shoulder as it began to slip off. It held a dress she would change into before she went to work. She was making her way to the stables, where she would meet Tristan before they walked to a training field that was rarely used, as it was on the other side of the fort. She saw a familiar form walking in the same direction in front of her.

"Gawain!" Sarah beckoned as she jogged to meet him. He didn't stop and made no sign of hearing her. She called again as she came closer, "Hi Gawain. How are you to-" Her words halted immediately as he turned to look at her with such a cold expression she felt her body freeze. She was taken aback by the fury in his eyes.

"What do you want, Sarah?" His voice was as icy as his face.

She hesitated, her mind was swirling, trying to figure if she had done something to anger him. When she found no reason she stuttered, "I… I was just wond-" She furrowed her brow, "Are you alright?"

He rolled his eyes and huffed, "Do you _need _something?" His tone was filled with such hatred and venom that Sarah's eyes began to water.

"N-no…" she whispered as she looked away from his callous stare, "Have you seen Tristan?" She asked quickly, though she didn't need him to answer, she just didn't know what to say. She didn't realize she needed an excuse to talk to him.

"No, I haven't." Gawain's jaw was clenched, his lips barely moving, "I'm not his keeper." His gaze broke away for the slightest second, and she noticed his demeanor soften, but in the next instant his defenses were back up.

"Well," Sarah narrowed her eyes at the man, "Sorry to have bothered you, Gawain." She spoke the words harshly, she was offended by his discourtesy, "But there's no reason to be rude." The look he shot her then gave her the urge to run, but she was still frozen, afraid to move. She had a feeling that this is what he looked like on the battlefield while he killed. And she was currently the enemy.

Gawain glanced behind her then pushed past, brushing upon her shoulder with his, jolting her body slightly. Sarah stood bewildered.

"You'll have to excuse Gawain…" Lancelot's voice spoke from close behind her. It was he that Gawain had looked to before he left. Sarah turned to him, he was looking in the direction of his retreating comrade and shook his head sadly, "He's not himself today."

Sarah scoffed, "I think I figured that out." Lancelot gave her a crooked grin, but it wasn't happy. She sighed and spoke softly, "What's his problem? Is he mad at me?"

"He's mad at everyone… he's angry with the world," he explained.

"And why is that?" Sarah still sounded aggravated.

Lancelot hesitated for a moment, he seemed to be lost in thought. A glum countenance touched his handsome features, making him nearly unrecognizable. He drew a deep breath then exhaled, "Five years ago, his younger brother Gareth was killed in battle. Five years ago _today_."

Sarah's heart skipped a beat as guilt clogged her veins, "Oh… I didn't know. I feel horrible for chastising him."

Lancelot put his hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry… If I know Gawain, he already regrets treating you rudely."

"He had good reason to," she whispered.

"He used to say that about Gareth," Lancelot said solemnly.

She wasn't sure what he was talking about, "Say what?"

"That he wasn't his keeper…"

Sarah now understood the expression that had flashed on Gawain's face after he spoke those words. It was sadness. Thunder erupted deeply within the dense clouds hovering low above them.

"Are you going into the stables?" Lancelot inquired as he pointed at the building nearby.

"Uh… yes," Sarah was happy that he didn't ask why as they walked together. She was suddenly curious to find out more about Gawain's brother, "So, Gareth, I haven't heard anything about him. He was a knight?"

Lancelot nodded, "Yes. He was the youngest… Gawain, he acts like this two days of the year; today, the day he died, and the day of his birthday. So you may notice that Gawain doesn't exactly enjoy his own… Gareth was born the day before Gawain turned three."

They entered the stables just as the rain began to pour down. It was dark inside, the thick walls muted the sounds of the storm.

"What was he like?" Sarah asked as Lancelot began to brush the dark coat of his stallion.

"Gareth?" he asked and she nodded. He pursed his lips while he thought, "He was a lot like Gawain… in personality as well as looks. He was a bit of prankster…" Lancelot let out a small chuckle, which in turn made Sarah smile. He continued with a lighter tone, "I was their favorite subject to torture."

"They?" she asked with raised brows.

"He and Galahad," Lancelot shook his head in amusement at the memories. Sarah remembered the conversation with her lover, the day they kissed for the first time.

"Rats?" She smiled slyly to him.

He narrowed his ebony eyes to her, "Galahad told you?"

"He mentioned it… but never Gareth." She shrugged.

"Did you know that Galahad and Gawain used to hate each other?" he asked.

Her eyes widened in genuine shock and shook her head. She couldn't imagine those two _not _being friends, let alone enemies.

"It's true," Lancelot let out another laugh and continued grooming the horse, "It was actually _Gareth_ that Galahad was best friends with… Gawain didn't approve; he thought he was a bad influence on his brother."

Sarah couldn't help but giggle at the somewhat ridiculous thought of Galahad being a bad influence.

Lancelot agreed silently and shrugged his shoulders, "But in fact, it was usually Gareth who got them into trouble… Galahad would just take the blame for him." His voice was fading back into sadness and Sarah waited silently for him to continue. He cleared his throat, "Gawain… he watched from a distance as his brother fell. Galahad was there, trying to defend him…" Lancelot's eyes seemed to be far off, as if he was back at that very place and day, "He didn't even leave when Gareth was lying dead… he just continued to protect his friend." The amount of emotion that came from Lancelot's voice as he spoke brought tears to Sarah's eyes. She watched as he swallowed hard and shook his head, "Galahad was loyal to the end… I think that's what made Gawain change his mind about him. He respected him. They grieved together… they had both lost a brother that day."

"We _all _did." The new voice startled Sarah, though the words were no more than muttered.

"Tristan." Lancelot nodded his head once, not seeming at all surprised with his presence. Sarah figured the simple gesture was both an agreement as well as a greeting.

The scout addressed her, "The rain has passed. Are you ready?" His clothing was blotched, darker where the water absorbed into the fabric and his hair was heavy, crystal droplets clung shakily to the ends.

"Yes," she felt flustered, all this information was overwhelming, but she was happy to learn more of her lover's past. Lancelot arched a brow at both of them but didn't ask what they were doing. He couldn't get himself interested enough to care at the moment. Sarah picked up her bag she had let rest on the floor as he told her of his fallen comrade, "Thank you, Lancelot… for telling me about him." He only nodded again. His mood now corresponded with the weather, dark and gloomy, though no longer storming. He had been subdued.

* * *

Sarah rolled the sleeves of her white tunic up to her elbows as Tristan prepared for their session. She watched as he pulled out a piece of wood that was carved to resemble a sword.

"You don't expect me to learn to wield one of those, do you?" she looked at him skeptically, "I haven't even learned to defend myself with my hands…"

"This isn't for you," he responded, not looking at her, his eyes examined the training weapon. Her expression now appeared to be worried. He glanced to her, "The Roman soldier, he was armed, correct?" She nodded and he stepped toward her, "Tell me what happened."

Sarah wasn't sure if she was ready to relive that night _or _the position she was put in.

She gulped, swallowing her anxiety, and moved to him, "He grabbed me from behind, putting a hand over my mouth, and the sword to my throat."

Tristan nodded and stared at her for a moment. Before she realized what happened he had turned her around, his body pressed against her back and he was in the stance she had described. Sarah's muscles tensed painfully as it brought back the memories and her gasp caught in her lungs.

"Like this?" He asked calmly. She clenched her eyes shut as his breath blew across her ear and nodded. It had been _exactly_ like this. Though, the wooden sword didn't feel as cold against her skin as the metal blade had, but she felt its sting nonetheless. Her breathing quickened and his hand on her mouth made it difficult, just the same as the Roman's hand. Her body trembled slightly, but enough for Tristan to notice.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The air of his lungs on her flesh made her feel nauseas. She began to nod, then quickly shook her head. He immediately released his hold and she swiftly stepped away.

Sarah kept her back to him as she drew deep breaths and she heard him mumble something that sounded like an apology, but she couldn't be certain. After she was able to calm herself to a reasonable level she turned to look at him, plastering on a fake smile, "Sorry… I guess I wasn't expecting that."

He shrugged a shoulder, "Now I know what technique to teach you."

He showed her a move that could incapacitate the attacker long enough to get away. She was getting frustrated and claimed that she wasn't strong enough. He explained that strength had nothing to do with it, leverage was the key. Sarah was becoming discouraged and cranky with the fact that she was failing miserably.

"I can't do it, Tristan!" She nearly shouted, "Can you show me something else?"

"No." He answered simply. She wondered if that were true or if he was just being as stubborn as herself. She figured it was the latter.

She rolled her eyes, "I don't want to do this anymore today."

"Again," he ignored her.

"I can't do-"

"Again," his amber eyes bore into hers and she thought it best not to argue.

"Fine." She threw her hands in the air and moved back to him.

"Concentrate," Tristan urged, hoping she would _finally _manage to succeed.

She was determined to get it right this time. She used all the force she could muster as she maneuvered out of his grasp. In her fury, she ended up using _too_ much force and underestimated herself. Sarah tripped clumsily as she tried to steady her body but slipped on the wet earth. She fell backward, placing her arms out to catch herself. The inside of her left forearm went down, meeting the hardness of a jagged rock that was protruding from the ground and it sliced up the flesh. She yelped in pain, which resulted in Tristan letting out a guttural chuckle. Or at least it sounded like a chuckle.

She tightly hugged her injured arm to her chest, her face contorted in pain, "It's not funny!" she hissed.

He knelt beside her, she looked up to see him trying to hide a grin, "Let me see."

"Don't touch me!" Sarah pulled away.

"Don't be such a baby," his grin was no longer being hidden, "It's probably just a bruise." He held out his hand as a gesture to allow him to see. She rolled over in defeat and closed her eyes tightly as the wound ached stronger.

"Hmm," Tristan took her arm, moving it away from her chest, "That's a lot of blood." Her eyes shot open in alarm and glanced down quickly. Sure enough, her skin and the front of her tunic were soaked in bright crimson.

"Let's get you to Dagonet," Tristan spoke calmly, like always, "Do you think you can walk?"

"Yes," Sarah stood, with his help, but swayed and blinked her blurry eyes.

He steadied her and wrapped her good arm around his shoulders while supporting her waist. Tristan guided her to a bench and rummaged in his bag. He pulled out a rag and tied it tightly around the wound in hopes to slow the bleeding. He helped her up again, resuming their positions and led her through the fort. They received some strange looks from passing citizens as they noticed the girl covered in her life's essence then shot suspicious looks at Tristan.

By the time they reached the doors of the infirmary he was nearly carrying her limp body. Sarah was weak and feeling rather woozy, her strength seemed to leave her as the blood continued to seep out through the now drenched rag.

"By the gods, Tristan… What did you do to her?" She vaguely recognized Dagonet's voice.

"I didn't do anything. She fell," he answered and placed her onto a cot. Her head bobbed and her lids fluttered.

"Lay her down before she falls again," the tall knight instructed and Tristan did as he was told.

"My bag," Sarah mumbled. She remembered that she had left it hanging on one of the fence posts.

"I'll go back for it," Tristan informed her, "And I'll tell Vanora you may be late for work."

"Thanks," Sarah groggily responded and heard the door close behind him. She felt strange. Like she had drank far too much. She was so out of it she hadn't even noticed that Dagonet had removed the cloth and was examining the injury.

"You're going to need stitches," he told her softly. She groaned in understanding and misery. He quickly tied a clean bandage on and went to gather the needed tools on the table nearby. Sarah stared at the ceiling as she waited.

"This is going to sting," he informed her right before he poured a strong smelling liquid over the gash. She hissed loudly and clenched her fists.

"Ow!" She yelled at him and he only smiled sympathetically.

"The worst is over," he picked up a needle and expertly threaded the fiber through the eye.

"Somehow I doubt that," she was looking at the needle like it was a monster.

"You may be surprised," Dagonet repositioned her arm that she had unconsciously withdrew from him, "I'll be gentle." To her relief, he was right. It was still unpleasant, but it was just a dull stinging sensation. A small knock came from the door.

"Enter," Dagonet answered to it without removing his attention from his work.

"Sorry to bother you," Amon poked his head in, "but do you know if we have any fennel left?"

Dagonet stopped and turned around to answer him, and Amon could now see Sarah laying with her eyes half-open. He walked in completely as the knight continued to think.

"Hello, Sarah," Amon grinned down at her, "What happened this time?"

This was the third time this month she had visited the infirmary, all results of her training with Tristan and every time she had fallen. The first incident she had hit her head, and the scout insisted that she get it looked at. It turned out to be nothing, except for a headache afterward. The second visit came after she had tripped and was convinced that she had broken her foot, but it was no more than a sprain, not to say it wasn't painful; she limped for the three days following.

"I fell," she replied flatly.

"Again?" he asked, apparently amused with her clumsiness.

She looked up at him through narrowed eyes. He was still handsome, but he didn't have the same effect on her as when they'd first met. She determined that it was merely the fact that large amounts of wine and loneliness don't mix. The morning after they had talked at the tavern, she went to speak with Vanora. She explained to her that she felt immense guilt for feeling _any _attraction to him.

Vanora laughed at her and rationalized that just because she loved one man didn't mean she would automatically stop noticing others. The redhead even admitted that she did, and told Sarah that it was nothing to be ashamed of, as long as she didn't follow through on her silly human urges. Look, but don't touch. The simplicity of the logic eased Sarah's worries. She knew for certain that that would never be an issue, and that she was utterly in love with Galahad. Only he could make her happy now.

"Yes, I fell, _again_." She answered and draping her free arm over her pale face.

"Hmm, well, at least it looks legitimate this time," he chuckled.

"Check in the drawer, third one down on the left," Dagonet resumed his duty, causing Sarah to flinch.

"Thanks, Dag." Amon began shuffling through the compartment, "Aha, here is some… Hope you feel better, Sarah."

She waved her hand lazily to him. She heard him chuckle again then shut the door as he left.

"There. All finished," Dagonet snipped the end of the thread and preceded to apply a salve over the now closed cut, "You'll need to put this on every time you change the bandage, which will be twice a day."

"Thank you," Sarah watched his actions carefully as he firmly wrapped her arm again.

"How many?" Tristan's voice came from the newly opened entrance.

"Twelve," Dagonet answered, obviously knowing what his friend was asking.

"Twelve what?" Sarah was confused.

"Stitches," he replied smiling, "Not too shabby for your first time."

"And hopefully last," she laughed.

"You'll need to come back in a few weeks so I can remove the sutures," Dagonet informed her as he stood and put away his instruments. He half-turned his body to her, but never looked at her. She could see a grin pull at the side of his mouth, "Although, I don't think I'll have to wait that long to see you here again." He was teasing her.

"Ha ha, very funny," she rolled her eyes, but couldn't fight her own amusement, "I'm sure you're probably right."

"Here's your bag," Tristan let it plop heavily on her mattress, "And I talked to Vanora."

Sarah sat up slowly, testing her senses, "Thanks, Tristan."

"She now knows that you dropped a mug of ale, slipped on the wet floor and sliced your arm on the broken shards." He explained while staring out the window.

"Oh, I see…" Sarah smiled at the made up story, "That sounds like it could have actually happened… especially to me."

"She came up with it," he agreed, "She knows you well."

Besides Sarah and Tristan, only Dagonet and Vanora, and thus probably Bors as well, knew about her training sessions. Amon merely thought she was the most clumsy person he knew. None of the other knights had any idea, and she began to wonder if she should just tell Galahad. Maybe he wouldn't even care. Why would he?

"Well, I better get dressed and get to work," Sarah stood and wavered slightly, Dagonet quickly had her sit back down.

"Are you sure you're feeling able to work tonight?" he asked concerned.

"Sure, I'm already starting to feel better," she stood again, slower this time, and was happy that her head didn't object too much to the movement.

After she had dressed, with some difficulty, but before she left, Dagonet made her eat and drink, to replenish her body's losses. He also packed her a small bag stuffed with clean bandages and a container of the ointment. Her arm was sore, but she felt almost like herself again.

* * *

It was well into the night as Sarah was shuffling behind the counter. Vanora was concerned with her injury, insisting that she stay at the bar instead of lifting heavy trays and buzzing between the tables. Sarah was on dishwashing duty, trying her best not to get her bandage wet, which wasn't the easiest thing to do. Her wound was beginning to ache terribly as the weight of the mugs strained the muscles in her arm. She flexed her fingers open and closed in hopes to ease the pain.

"Sarah," a deep voice sounded from the counter she had her back turned to.

She glanced around and found Gawain leaning against it, looking weary, "Oh, hello Gawain." She managed a sad smile as she remembered her earlier conversation with Lancelot.

He straightened himself and spoke softly, "I was wondering if I could talk to you… when you get a break."

Sarah nodded, "Of course… I'll meet you at a table as soon as I can."

Gawain grinned appreciatively, "Alright… I'll see you soon." He left to find a seat. She watched as he chose the one in the corner, the same one she had sat at with Amon. It provided the most privacy.

She finished up with the few remaining cups and dried her hands. She then proceeded to pour two mugs of ale, picking them up and carrying them as she made her way to the waiting knight. His arms rested on the tabletop and his head was bowed. Sarah set the drinks down, he looked up as one was placed in front of him, and she took her place in the empty seat.

"Thank you," he held up the beverage and took a gulp. He remained silent, Sarah watched him closely from across the table, as he continued to sip.

"You wanted to talk to me?" she gently reminded him.

He nodded, looking down at the ale, "Actually, I wanted to apologize…" He felt her shift uncomfortably, but spoke before she could respond, "I'm sorry for treating you badly earlier… You were right, I was rude, and it was uncalled for."

Sarah shook her head to herself, "It's alright, Gawain… Lancelot explained some things to me after you left."

"I see… He told you about Gareth?" He asked quietly, and it seemed that he had flinched when he spoke the name.

"Yes," she answered solemnly, "I was very sad to hear what had happened to him."

"Galahad has never mentioned him?"

"No." She shook her head and took a much needed drink, though she never cared for bitter taste of ale.

"Hmm… I worry about him sometimes," Gawain's brows rose for an instant but quickly fell, "He can't even talk about him." He leaned forward to Sarah and she mimicked his movements, "It's strange, I get so angry when I think about what happened to Gareth… Galahad, he gets… sad. Although, I don't think that word does the emotion justice… How is he doing?"

"He's still not feeling well," Sarah's lips turned down, "I wonder if he even knows what today is."

"I hope not." Gawain reclined back.

"You don't want him to remember?" she asked.

He shrugged a shoulder, "It's probably for the best if he doesn't."

"Well, I don't think he'd be happy if he forgot his fallen friend," Sarah muttered, suddenly concerned about the man she loved.

"He wouldn't be happy if he remembered," Gawain countered and she sighed. They sat in silence, both thinking to themselves and losing track of time. A loud crash broke through their deep concentration, bringing them back to reality.

"I guess you should get back," Gawain motioned to the bar with a nod of his golden head.

Sarah groaned, "I suppose you're right. Here," she slid her still full mug to him, "you can have the rest."

"Thanks… and thank you for talking with me," he smiled up to the now standing woman. She managed to return a tiny smile before she went back to her duties.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. I also hope that this cleared up any worries about Sarah and Amon… Thanks to those who reviewed! Oh, I'm planning on changing into first person for just the next chapter, it will be in Galahad's point of view. Just wondered if that would bother anyone? I hope not, because I'm really looking forward to writing it! Thanks again for reading! Now I'm off to start Chapter Eleven: Galahad's Dream…_


	11. Galahad's Dream

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**A/N:**_ This chapter is in Galahad's point-of-view._

**Chapter Eleven: Galahad's Dream**

When I woke up this morning, or afternoon rather, the emotions and sensations of my dream were still fervent. The image that I had of myself was altered and I barely recognized the face in the mirror. I looked older than I recalled, bringing me back to the present and reality. And my eyes, they didn't seem close to the color they used to be, and certainly not as warm. No, they were definitely colder. And the whites were tinged red and my lids were slightly puffy, the remnants of my illness still lingered, though I felt better. _Physically_, anyway. No scratchiness or burning in my throat, and I could finally breathe through my nose again, not to mention I could breathe without nearly coughing up a lung.

Once I had worked up the energy to get out of bed I took a bath, which my body sorely needed, and washed my hair that had turned greasy from neglect. I had looked disgusting and wondered how Sarah was able to even look at me, let alone kiss my oily cheek yesterday. I can't help but smile at the mere thought of the woman I love, and most importantly, the woman who loves me back. But now my thoughts were brought back to the dream I had just hours ago, as I still stare into the mirror, I now resemble the man I once was in that vision… clean shaven. My beard is now gone, remembering the bet from what seemed like forever ago, thanks to the visions of my past self. I looked young again, though I don't think I ever looked old… just _older_. And so, as I stand here, gazing at my now more familiar face, I can't help but succumb to the reminiscences of my recent slumber.

My memories of the past were mingled with the observances that only my subconscious had noticed; things my active mind hadn't seen at that moment in time. I had to ask: Were they real- or just mere images my dream had conjured? But my questionable recollections started to form into an unyielding certainty, and strangely, the elements of my present life had made an appearance…

"_Dear Lord," Arthur exclaimed quietly to himself while viewing the bloody scene before us. I couldn't help but bitterly think of the irony of the words he spoke as we gazed into the midst of dead bodies… How could he call his God 'dear' at the sight of this atrocity?_

"_What a mess," Bors spoke, probably louder than appropriate in a situation such as this, it made him sound callous, though I knew that he was as much disturbed as the rest of us._

_Arthur dismounted from his saddle, we all followed suit, and began to lead his horse by the reigns further into the mass of eerie stillness. A stillness that only death could produce. He looked back to us, we all knew what was to be done, so he only nodded as a gesture to get started with the proper disposal of the bodies and search for survivors. It was going to be a long day. We had been on our way back to the fort when Tristan had pointed out the smoke that was drifting black against the late morning sky. Arthur decided it best to get a closer look. I wonder if he had changed his mind yet. I certainly had._

"_Galahad, let's go," Gareth spoke quietly as he passed me and I followed silently. The smell of the corpses overwhelmed my senses. How long have they been lying here?_

"_How long ago do you think this happened, Arthur?" Lancelot seemed to have read my mind, or perhaps it was just an obvious question that followed the nauseating scent._

"_Not long," Tristan answered for our commander, who seemed just fine with letting the scout express his opinion, "No more than a day… judging from the still burning embers." Some of the buildings still stood, untouched by the fire, but most were just skeletal remains._

"_I don't know," Lancelot shook his head while looking around, "It's a fairly potent stench." He scrunched up his nose then covered his mouth and nostrils with his hand._

"_The heat from the sun doesn't help," Tristan explained before walking off into the distance._

_We unconsciously split into teams, though Arthur and Tristan worked alone, Gawain and Lancelot stayed close to the outside border, Bors and Dagonet went in the opposite direction of Gareth and myself. We began to sift through the aftermath, hoping that there were some still alive lying on the hard ground. But our hope faded quickly, although it was never very strong to begin with._

_Gareth knelt down, taking a short sword from a clenched fist, "He was just a boy." _

_I glanced at the round face of the child, it was contorted in such an intense pain that I had to look away. I was thankful that his eyes were closed. He couldn't have been much older than ten. Then again, we weren't much older than that when were taken from our homes and forced into the world of war, to see things no child should ever have to witness, let alone have to live through… and most didn't. _

_I continued to walk sluggishly through the maze of bodies, trying my best not to look at their frozen faces. It's a strange thing to see; dead faces. You're basically looking at the exact moment they died, exactly what they had looked like when they drew their last breath. And so, it is as if you watched them die, over and over, each time your vision falls on their tormented expressions. Instead of looking down, I glanced between my comrades. _

_Tristan was far off, near the edge of the woods, I wasn't sure what he was doing, but I had no doubt that it was something useful. Lancelot and Gawain were shifting bodies half-heartedly, out of all of us, those two had the most difficult time dealing with death, even after all these years. I suppose I would be next on the list. _

_Looking to my right, Dagonet was kneeling, checking a person for life. I watched, as did Bors from a closer proximity, until Dag stood and hung his head as he moved to another one nearby. Arthur was in the same posture as our tallest knight, he seemed to be talking, though I was too far away to hear him, but I figured he was saying a prayer. I don't know why, but it makes me uncomfortable to watch someone pray and I have to avert my attention. _

_I quickly looked down and my eyes met with bright green ones. I was drawn to them, I couldn't tear my vision away and my legs moved against my will. I crouched and touched the perfectly oval face, the iciness of the skin didn't startle me like I had thought it would. For some strange reason, I found myself wanting to touch it more. My surprisingly steady hand cupped the hollowed cheek, my thumb brushed against the supple lips. She must have been the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, for she was beautiful even in death. Her dark honey hair was long, sprawled in silky waves framing her face, it reminded me of the rays of the sun. I touched it and felt a sticky wetness on the back of her skull. I looked at my fingers that were now stained in a nearly black crimson. A blow to the head. At least her death was instant, no suffering. I wondered if the person who had hit her intended to kill or just to knock out. My other hand trailed down her left arm and reached the palm, my fingers traced over a line of raised tissue. There was a long scar running across the flesh, and I couldn't help but outline it over and over again. I closed my lids and when I opened them again I was no longer looking through the eyes of my past self. No, it was me- as I am now, I was a visitor that couldn't be seen. I watched myself still examining the unknown woman._

"_Arthur," Tristan's voice was louder than usual as he called to get our leader's attention, and got everyone else's as well. My younger self didn't move and neither did I. I already knew that Tristan had found some of the surviving villagers hidden in a building. They had been there since yesterday afternoon, too afraid to come outside. And after convincing them it was safe, they helped with the efforts of trying to get the place in order. Some began lining up bodies and wrapping them in linen, others dug their final resting places, while some were too upset to do anything but weep. And I didn't hold it against them._

_My attention was drawn to the woods. A figure was watching the scene in the distance, under the shadows of the trees. I recognized her immediately, she looked the same, though she was younger than I know her now. My mind must be compensating for the time difference, making up an image that would have been more realistic. Her face was rounder, the innocence of youth still present, and her hair, shorter. But I knew it was her, I could distinguish her features from a million miles away, and she definitely wasn't that far. And even the darkness surrounding her and the dense fog enveloping the space around her couldn't hide her from me. It was my Sarah. She smiled sadly to me, outstretching her arm and holding her hand in my direction. _

"_Come back to me, Galahad," she spoke soothingly and I wanted to run to her. But I couldn't even take a single step. My feet were frozen to the earth below, rooted in place. I tried again and again, but nothing could break my invisible bonds. She lowered her hand, taking steps backwards into the woods. She started to disappear and I began to panic. I called out her name, asking for her to wait for me, but she either couldn't hear me or she didn't listen…But why would she not wait for me?_

There was a shuffling sound coming from the other room. I turned my head to the door in the direction of the noise. I decided to go see if Sarah had woken up. I hadn't even heard her come in from the tavern. Usually Bors walked her back and his voice typically woke me long before they were even close. But I hadn't been woken, and I worried that he hadn't walked her home. Though, I knew he would never let her go alone. I opened the door of the washroom and peeked out. She had just shifted, still asleep, her back was to me now. I stepped out and shut the door quietly. The fact that I couldn't see her face was unacceptable and so I crept into the bed, positioning myself behind her. My hand rubbed over her bare shoulder, the skin was even smoother than I remembered. I moved my face between it and her warm cheek, kissing it softly. She moaned happily and she rolled over, wrapping her arms around my neck, drawing me into a loving embrace. She pulled away suddenly, and finally opened her eyes, looking at me with pleasant surprise. I noticed, seemingly for the first time, that her eyes and hair were the exact same shade.

"You shaved," she said through a grin and I nodded. Her smile widened, "I like."

Our lips touched and lingered until Sarah hissed in what seemed like pain and released me.

"Are you alright?" I asked hurriedly as I looked at her face, her eyes were closed tightly.

She nodded and exhaled, "Yes… I forgot about my arm." She held it up and I saw that it was wrapped firmly and a slight pink tinged a line on the cloth.

"What happened?" I brought it closer, taking care to be gentle.

"I fell," she answered in a groan. She opened her eyes to look at me. She obviously saw my worried expression because she smiled reassuringly, "I'll tell you more later… I'm too tired to talk." A long yawn followed her words and made them more believable.

"Alright…" I let her arm rest on her stomach, "Let me change the bandage."

She nodded and pointed lazily to a bag nearby, "Dagonet packed me some clean ones, along with a salve." Another yawn.

I retrieved the supplies and took my place beside her again. I began to unravel the soiled cloth and found the wound. It was slightly swollen, raised from the rest of her skin, and red around the edges. I furrowed my brows at the sight, it looked painful and I never wanted to see her in pain. Her eyes were closed again as she allowed me to take care of her and her breathing was slow and steady. She must have fallen asleep.

"Sarah," I whispered to get her attention. She responded with a moan to let me know she was listening and so I went on, "I didn't hear you come in last night…" She made no response this time, "Did Bors walk you home?" I finished applying the ointment and started wrapping a new bandage as I awaited an answer. I sighed when she didn't give me one, "Sarah."

"Hmm?"

Her lids were still closed, she must be really exhausted. I set her arm down as I was finished, "Did Bors walk you home last night?"

"No," it came out as an airy whisper in her fatigue.

Her answer disturbed me and I found myself becoming impatient with her weariness, "Did you walk alone?" It sounded a bit harsh but she didn't seem to notice. Actually, she didn't seem to even hear me at all and I thought for a moment she had fallen back asleep. I said her name again, with more authority.

"Gawain," she muttered.

A wave of relief and sorrow passed through me. Relief, because someone was with her, and sorrow, because I was reminded of what yesterday was. A frown pulled at my lips, "How was he?"

Sarah finally opened her eyes and looked at me, "He… wasn't himself." I nodded mutely and felt her hand upon my shoulder, "How are _you_, Galahad?" I looked down at her and tried to put on a fake smile, unfortunately she saw right through it and gave me the most sympathetic look I'd ever seen, "I know about Gareth." She whispered her words to me, I assumed she was trying to be gentle but the mention of him felt like a sword in my side. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and brought up a hand to cover my once again frowning mouth. I felt her staring at me, she was waiting for me to say something, but I didn't know what to say. Her hand moved and held firmly to mine, "Galahad… I'm here if you want to tell me about it."

After I knew I had enough control over my emotions I looked back to her, "I thought you were too tired." I tried to brighten the mood.

"I said I was too tired to talk… not to listen," her thumb began to draw circles on my hand. I watched the continuous motion, the combination of the feel of it and the vision nearly hypnotized me. The same panic from my dream washed over me suddenly, and I never wanted to let her go. I feared that she would disappear into the darkness.

I shook my head, hoping to shake away the feeling as well, "Later…" I caught her eyes with mine, she had a strange expression. It looked as though she was disappointed or maybe even hurt that I didn't seem willing to talk to her. I leaned over and kissed her forehead, "Get a few more hours rest… You look exhausted."

She furrowed her brow, "Later then. I _do _want to talk to you about something."

I mirrored her expression, wondering what that something was, "Alright, then I'll try to be back before you have to go to work." I kissed her again and took my leave.

* * *

"It's good to see that you are feeling better, Galahad," Arthur spoke, smiling as he approached me. We met each other halfway and he patted me firmly on the shoulder, looking at me rather oddly and I remembered that I must look very different to him. When I was on my way over to the meeting hall, people were doing double takes, sometimes triple, as they gazed upon my hairless jaw. Men furrowed their brows, and a few shook their heads, why, I'm not sure. Whereas women blatantly watched me pass with approving expressions and some giggled to their friends as they smiled ridiculously. I have to admit, that I was flattered and the attention fed my ego.

"Thanks," I nodded lamely, "It's good to feel like myself again."

He chuckled quietly as he examined my face with amusement, "So what's this all about? Did you lose a bet or something?"

I shrugged, "Unfortunately."

"I rather like it. It reminds me of our younger years."

"Yes, well, I would have much rather Gawain lost." We began to walk side by side, "I'm sure you would have appreciated _that _wager much more…" He raised his brows and I smirked, "We could have been looking at another bald knight."

"That definitely would have been a sight to see," he laughed again, I noted that he seemed to be in a rather good mood today, "So, where are you off to?"

"I was actually here to speak with you," I replied as we passed through the doors into the meeting room. I took my appointed seat at the round table that dominated the space.

Arthur leaned his elbows against the back of Dagonet's empty chair, "I'm listening."

"I was just wondering how our little project is coming along."

"Very well. It should be done…" he began to search the air for an answer, "within a fortnight."

"That's good news," an excited smile took over my features, "That's sooner than I expected."

"Me too," Arthur took a seat, leaning back comfortably, "It seems that the preparation took longer than the actual task." He grinned slightly, "I believe it would have gone more swiftly if you and your need of perfection weren't involved." We both laughed, knowing that Arthur is at least twice as bad as myself when it comes to precision.

"You know me too well, Arthur." I shook my head in amusement and faux shame.

"Actually, you are full of surprises."

"Well, that's the idea, right?" I pointed a finger into the air.

"True," he shrugged a shoulder and smiled. I finally realized the reason for his happy mood must in fact be due to our little conspiracy. Arthur has always been a sucker for helping others and doing good, sometimes annoyingly so. He brought his hands together, intertwining the fingers, "How is Sarah liking the tavern?"

A triumphant smirk plastered itself on my face, "She hates it." It wasn't a lie. Maybe a _bit _of an exaggeration. For the first two weeks she had put on a good show, claiming that it wasn't that bad. I figured that this was because she had argued so adamantly with me over working there. But as the third week rolled around Sarah no longer held back on her complaints, and they were many, much to my selfish satisfaction.

"Well, that's too bad," Arthur frowned slightly.

"Not really," my grin broadened and he chuckled deeply. My lighter thoughts were interrupted with my other plans that I had yet to do. The muscles in my face fell, my expression turning more serious, "Have you seen Gawain?"

Arthur shook his head, "No. I didn't see him at all yesterday either… I think he's avoiding me." I nodded and he sighed, "You should go… If you can find him."

"Alright…" I stood and pushed the chair in, "Thank you, Arthur."

"Good luck," he answered quietly as I left.

* * *

As I walked around the fort searching for Gawain, I determined that I needed to talk with someone else first. Someone I hadn't spoken to in a very long time. _Too _long.

"Hello, Gareth," I crouched down, closer to the green mound, "I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday… My lousy excuse is that I was sick," I smiled weakly and shrugged to myself, "I know, I know, 'stop being such a baby' is what you would say to me… if you were still here." I let myself fall back clumsily to sit on the grass, plucking a blade and continuously wrapping it around a finger. I sat in silence for a long time, wondering if I was quiet enough that I may be able to hear him. But all I heard was my silence. And a small flock of birds chirping and flying away as their ease had been disturbed. I began to tear the thin emerald strand to pieces and glanced back at the small hill as I spoke quietly, "I wish you were still here…" I drew in a deep breath as I felt my insides constricting and cleared my throat as I exhaled, "I met a girl," I managed a genuine smile, "Her name is Sarah… She's beautiful. I think you would have liked her. She has a great sense of humor, like you. She mostly laughs _at_ me… like you."

My attempt at being casual was failing fast and I felt my eyes become hot with tears, "I really miss you, Gareth." Saying his name was too much, I felt the salty water streaming down my face. My chin began to quiver so I covered it with a shaky hand in hopes to steady it. It didn't help. "You were my best friend" I began mumbling through my palm, "And I'm sorry…" My breathing was becoming erratic and I could hardly speak, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." I wiped my eyes roughly, letting my hands slide down my face to dry it, "I loved you like a brother… Still do… I hope you have found peace, my friend." I stood up and forced myself to walk away, as much as I wanted to stay, I couldn't find the strength. Plus, I had to find our other brother…

* * *

I brought my hand up, ready to knock upon the wood, but I hesitated. Was I ready to face Gawain? Would he want to talk about his brother? Was he back to normal today? Back to not mentioning him and pretending everything is alright? Only one way to find out. I tapped my knuckles on the door three times and waited. No answer. One more try, three more taps.

"Nobody's home," a familiar voice spoke from my right side. I turned to find Gawain, arms and legs crossed leaning against the wall down the hallway. There was a small smirk playing on his features. Back to normal, it would seem. He furrowed his brow as he pushed off the wall and made his way to me, carefully studying my face, "Oh yes, I had almost forgotten about the bet."

"Me too," I replied while fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, glad you remembered… Feeling better I see," another smirk. He motioned for me to follow him, "I'm heading to the stables. Thinking of going for a ride… Or maybe not," He shrugged as he carried on the one-sided conversation, "I don't really know what I want to do, but I'm so bored I could scream. Do you ever feel like that?" He glanced over to me for a split second but continued before it was humanly possible to answer, "It's too early to drink. Tavern's not open. The weather's nice though, right?" Gawain looked around and breathed in deeply. I had a strange feeling that I was looking at him like he was crazy. We're talking about the weather now? Isn't that what two strangers discuss in a moment of awkwardness?

He exhaled in satisfaction, "Ah, very nice. Maybe it would do me good to get some exercise- sparring maybe. No, no. I don't feel like doing that either. Oh, how is Sarah today? Have you spoken with her yet?"

"Um, briefly. She was pretty tired. I told her to get some more-"

"Sleep," Gawain finished my sentence, "Good, good. She looked exhausted last night on the walk home.""Thanks, by the way… for walking with her," I nodded and kept my vision on the road ahead. I noticed that we had turned and were no longer making our way to the stables. I had no idea where we were going and I had the strong impression that Gawain didn't either.

"Don't mention it," he made a flippant hand gesture, "Throwing daggers maybe…"

"What?" I realized the moment after I asked that he was back to trying to figure out what he wanted to do. He seemed very anxious. Perhaps, he _wasn't _back to normal.

"I know!" Gawain smiled to himself, "I'll see if Lancelot will play some dice. Yes, that sounds good."

"He only plays for real money, never for fun," I warned him.

"Well, it's a good thing for me that he's not very good," he chuckled, "I'll see you later, at the tavern." He began walking away and waved. I guess our visit was over.

"Uh, sure." I waved back weakly. I was slightly confused by his behavior. Had he not slept? He seemed somewhat delirious. But maybe it was me. After all, Gawain had all of yesterday to think of his brother, while I was still remembering. Maybe he could see that and that's why he didn't want to talk to me- at least, not about Gareth. But everything else in the world had seemed to be an acceptable topic.

* * *

After my strange meeting with Gawain I wanted to be able to have a normal conversation, so I decided that I would go back to my quarters. Sarah said she wanted to talk to me about something and I wanted to catch her before she had to go to work. I entered the room quietly, in case she was still sleeping; I hadn't been gone for as long as I originally planned. I found her curled up in the blankets, her whole body covered including most of her head. Was she that cold? It didn't feel very cold to me. I put an extra log on the fire and poked at it until the flames caught the wood. I sat next to her and tried to pull back the covers, but they were pinned underneath her.

I smiled and nudged what I guessed was her shoulder, "Sarah." I whispered to wake her up kindly. There's nothing more unpleasant than being woken up rudely. She didn't respond, which I thought was odd because she isn't the heaviest sleeper I know. I nudged her again, "Sarah."

A groan escaped from the lump and it drew a deep breath, "What?"

"Sorry to wake you… but don't you have to go to work soon?" I was still talking quietly.

Another, but louder groan was the answer and I grinned. I don't know why I get so much satisfaction with her hatred of working at the tavern. Actually, I _do_ know why.

"I can't…" Sarah mumbled.

"Why not?" I could actually _hear _myself smirking.

"I don't feel well."

My smile disappeared immediately, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I think I've caught whatever you had…" she was speaking groggily.

"Are you cold?" I began to rub her body through the blanket.

"Freezing." She answered and I could hear the aggravation. The cold always made her cranky.

"Does your throat hurt?"

"No."

"Can you breathe through your nose?"

"Yes."

"Let me see your face." I helped her roll over on her back and remove the covers. I saw her try to look at me but her lids fell heavily in her fatigue. Her face was pale, except her cheeks were rosy, "Nothing hurts?"

"No… my arm, a little."

I brought the back of my hand to her forehead. She was burning. I touched her cheek, "You have a fever."

"Can I go back to sleep?" she muttered quietly, "I'm so… so tired."

"I'm going to send for Dagonet," I informed her, though she was already back to unconsciousness. I opened the door and began to step out when I saw Jols walking by. I called to him and asked if he could tell the knight to come here. He agreed and set off quickly. I took my place beside Sarah again, observing her carefully; hoping that she wasn't seriously ill. After a short wait there was a knock at the door. I hurriedly stood and opened it. The person on the other side wasn't someone I was hoping for. It was Amon, not Dagonet that had come. But, despite my dislike for the man he was a healer and that is what Sarah needs at the moment. I moved aside to let him enter.

"Are you ill?" he asked.

"No. Sarah is," I motioned to the bed, "She has a fever."

He wasted no time positioning himself next to her. He touched her face, the same way I had. My jaw clenched at the sight and I had to force myself to keep calm. Sarah has made me discover something about myself that I hadn't known… I am a very jealous person.

"Sarah," Amon spoke her name softly. Just like I had. I sat down on the chair in the corner to observe. He began pulling the covers down and I thought I was going to jump out of my seat and strangle the man. I was thankful that Sarah was wearing her shift, though, there was not enough clothing in the world that could cover her from him enough to make me happy. He gently lifted her arm and began unraveling the bandage, "Sarah, I'm going to look at your cut." I heard a soft moan that I figured was some sort of recognition from her. I continued to watch carefully, but I couldn't see much, his back was to me and he was blocking most of my view of Sarah.

"Ow," the pain in her voice startled me and I stood, making my way to them and I gazed over Amon's shoulder.

"Sorry," he apologized as he continued to press lightly on the skin around the wound. It looked worse than earlier. The redness had spread. He touched another spot and she recoiled, groaning.

"I think we've determined that it hurts," I spoke shortly to him. The fact that he kept inflicting pain on her was making me want to kill him. He didn't respond to me and went on with his business.

"Sarah," he spoke to her instead, "Your wound is infected…" He set down her arm and opened a bag he had brought, that I hadn't really noticed. He retrieved a few items and set them on the mattress, "I'm going to clean and redress it."

"Can you do anything for the fever?" I asked as I stepped closer, trying to get him to speak to me rather than her. She was nearly unresponsive for crying out loud!

He nodded, "Of course I will give her something." He answered, making it sound obvious and that I was some sort of imbecile. That didn't help matters. Amon stood and lined a few more things on top of the dresser, "But it is the infection that is causing the fever, so we must worry about that mostly." I looked away, rolling my eyes in the process, as he ground herbs in a marble mortar, "So, if we can cure the infection, the fever will go away."

I had to literally bite my tongue so I wouldn't yell at the pompous ass. I understood it the first time you sorry piece of-

"Galahad?" Sarah spoke, interrupting my silent outburst. I was instantly at her side and took her hand in mine. She opened her eyes a little, "Maybe we should send for a healer."

I furrowed my brow, "Amon is here."

She looked passed me, "Oh… I thought that was just a dream. Hello, Amon."

I felt his presence next to me and he sat down again, "Hello, Sarah. I'm going to apply this to your arm…" he held up the bowl so she could see, "It's a more concentrated salve than the one Dagonet gave you." He set it down on the mattress and picked up a glass bottle, "But first, I need to clean the area… it may sting." Sarah groaned and tightened her grip on my hand. She hissed as the liquid made contact and I felt my own face contort with sympathy.

"Do you think it will scar?" she asked when the pain subsided. _Scar_. The word reminded me of my dream. Of the woman's hand that was marred. I looked at Sarah and realized how much the two of them look alike.

"Maybe," Amon answered while he smeared the ointment on the cut, "Probably. But, it could have been worse. You're lucky that Dagonet is very good with stitches."

"If he's so good then why is it infected?" I couldn't catch my words before they left my frowning mouth.

"It's not his fault, Galahad," Sarah defended him, "I got my bandage wet last night while doing dishes… It dried so I completely forgot to change it."

"Well, you won't be doing dishes for a while," Amon explained, "No work for at least three days. And you're going to need to change the dressing three to four times a day."

"What if my fever goes away before then?" Sarah asked quietly as she watched Amon finish his work.

"Three days, minimum." He repeated sternly, "You don't want to have a relapse."

"Vanora is going to be mad," she mumbled.

"No," I shook my head, "She's going to be worried about you and want you to get better."

"Yes," Amon stood and brought back a dark vile, "And you're to stay in bed and rest. No walking about unless it's absolutely necessary." He popped the small cork out and I could smell the bitterness, "Galahad, you'll keep an eye on her?"

"Two eyes," I replied, smiling at Sarah who was looking at me suspiciously.

"Why do I suddenly feel like a prisoner?" she asked.

"Because you are," I raised my brows once and she looked away to Amon.

"Here," he pushed the vile to her, "Drink this… it will help fight the fever." She took it quickly and I helped her sit up. I was surprised when she downed its contents without asking questions. She then made the most ridiculous face that would have made me laugh in a less serious situation.

"That's awful!" she exclaimed and coughed, "Worse than Dagonet's tea!" She quickly chugged some water that Amon offered.

"It does taste horrible, but it will help," he took back the cup and vile when she was done, "Get some rest now, Sarah. I'll be back tomorrow to see how you are feeling."

"Thanks, Amon," I stood and we made our way to the door. I opened it and he stopped in its frame to speak with me.

"Make sure she follows my instructions," he whispered so she couldn't hear, "If she strains her body it will hinder the healing process."

I nodded, "Of course. I understand. She won't be moving a muscle."

"Good," he grinned, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you again." I shut the door behind him and went back to Sarah. She was already asleep.

* * *

Sarah slept through the night, save a few groggy words that had made no sense to me. I, however, didn't get any sleep. Every time I began to nod off I thought I heard her say my name. It was late morning and she was still sleeping while I lay next to her just enjoying the view of her peaceful features. Sarah had woken earlier and I helped her, against her wishes, to the washroom so she could take care of some 'personal business' as she referred to it. For a split second I wasn't sure what she meant, I'm used to being around the other men, especially Bors, who let it be known bluntly that they have to take a piss. I laughed to myself when I tried to imagine Sarah saying that. I must have chuckled too loudly because her eyes were now open and staring at me.

"Good morning," I whispered through a grin.

"Good morning to you," she studied me with a frown, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," her offended expression only made me smile more.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Of course not. Why would you think that?" I forced myself to become serious again.

"Um, because you're looking at me and laughing." Her face was in complete defense mode.

"Honestly, I'm not. I was thinking about something Bors said," I explained.

She searched my face, trying to figure if I was telling the truth or not, "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," I scrunched my nose to show her it was something she would most likely find crass.

"Alright," she nodded once and stretched her body, though paying mind to her injured arm.

"How are you feeling?" I propped myself on an elbow and gazed down at her.

"A little better," she shrugged, "I think my fever is fading." I touched her cheek and frowned.

"Only a little," I pursed my lips, "Try to have some patience. It's only day one."

"Day one?!" she asked and moved back slightly, "It's day two!"

"No, no. Yesterday didn't count." I shook my head.

"According to you," she narrowed her eyes to me but I could see a smirk pulling at the side of her lips. Oh how I wanted to kiss them right now.

"My quarters, my rules." I challenged her by mirroring her expression.

"Well, you can't be here every moment," she warned, "And I do have a place of my own remember."

"Good luck getting there!" I laughed, which she didn't seem to appreciate, "You could barely get out of the bed this morning and walk to the washroom."

"There is still a difference between barely and can't," Sarah countered.

"Not a very big difference."

"So you admit they're not the same," she smiled smugly.

"Sarah, why can't you just enjoy that you have someone to pamper you?" I asked somewhat exasperatedly.

"Because I don't want to be pampered," she rolled her eyes, "But I do… appreciate it."

"But why don't you want it?" I was not understanding the logic at all. Who doesn't want to be taken care of when they're sick?

"I guess I'm just not used to it," Sarah looked me in the eyes, "I've been on my own since I was seventeen, Galahad. So after six years I've grown accustomed to looking after myself." I heard her laugh to herself, "Granted, I haven't been doing a very good job lately. With the Roman soldiers, nearly getting myself killed in the fire, traitor friends, and now I get myself stitches and a fever!" she shook her head but I was only half listening.

"Six years?" I asked and was searching the room while I thought.

"Yes," I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye, "So?"

My mind was being flooded with ideas, reasons for my dream, "You said your village was west of here?"

"Yes." She was looking at me, I could feel it.

No, no. I'm getting ahead of myself! Jumping to conclusions. That's what I was telling myself, but all I could think of was the strange woman, "This may sound strange, and if it doesn't make any sense to you… don't ask."

"Alright," she spoke slowly, warily.

"Did your," I looked down to my hand, "Did your mother have a scar on her left palm?" I traced my own to remember what it looked like.

Sarah's breathing was short and quick, "How would you know that?"

I take that as a yes. It's all makes sense now. Why would I have had a dream about it out of nowhere for no reason? No, there is a reason for everything.

"Galahad," she sat up and looked at me intently, "How do you know that?"

I looked her in the eyes finally. The drawing in her shop! The one of her mother! How could I have not remembered then? And now that I am looking at Sarah, how could I have not put it together before? They look so much alike, though Sarah has darker hair and eyes mostly everything is the same! I vaguely heard her say my name again to get my attention. I must have looked like a crazy person just staring at her, but I couldn't help it.

I drew in a breath before I answered, "I know that… because I buried her."

* * *

_Okay, sorry sorry sorry that it took me forever! Real life has been a pain! Don't you just hate real life? Lol. Well, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! How did the Galahad point of view go over with everyone? I liked writing it, but it was more difficult than I had imagined it would be. Who knows, maybe I'll do a Sarah point of view chapter in the future. Special thanks to Readerfreak10, TragicCure, and Lady Discord for your wonderful reviews!_


	12. Reunion

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with King Arthur. Only my characters._

**A/N: **_This chapter is in Sarah's Point-of-View._

**Chapter Twelve: Reunion**

"Vanora, you really don't have to do anything," I explained to her as she began sweeping my kitchen floor, "You should sit down and relax."

"Oh, please," she said, rolling her eyes, "Stop fussing over me!" Vanora was pregnant with her eleventh child, something I couldn't even begin to fathom, and her belly seemed to be growing everyday.

"Here," I took the broom away and led her to the table, forcing her to sit on the bench, "If you _have_ to do something, you can dust." I handed her a rag and a few miscellaneous trinkets.

"Just because I'm having a baby doesn't mean I have to _be_ babied," she muttered, but accepted the task I had given her. She smiled slightly as she went on, "Besides, when I get the rare chance to get away from all of those rascals, believe you me, I'm going to take it!"

I chuckled, remembering how earlier that day she had nearly ran across the square when she spotted me and informed me of her 'freedom'. I told her that I had some cleaning to do at my place and that she could keep me company. One would have thought that I had offered to make her biggest dream come true from how excited she had reacted.

I was enjoying my own 'freedom' as well. It had been nearly a week since I came down with a fever, so for six days, or five in Galahad's rulebook, I was confined to the bed. Although, yesterday was entirely voluntary… I was feeling completely well again and Galahad had most of the day to himself, so we decided to spend our time wisely. Together, in bed.

And it's been five days since that morning Galahad said the strangest thing he could have ever told me: He buried my mother.

At first I thought he was mistaken, but he described her with such vivid detail and certainty that I was utterly convinced. As convinced as I was, it was still exceedingly strange.

The man who laid my mother to rest was the man I was destined to love.

It sounded more like some morbid mythological prophecy rather than the fairy tales I grew up listening to.

But today he and the other knights were riding out to meet with a high ranking Roman officer, Galahad didn't bother to get his name, and escort him back to the fort. He left early this morning but said it probably wouldn't take long and he'd be back before dinner. But I missed him already.

"Why are you smiling?" Vanora asked, and sure enough I felt my cheeks burning from holding my grin. She smirked knowingly, "Thinking of Galahad?"

I blushed, my smile widening, no doubt answering her question, and I continued sweeping until my arm began to feel sore. It was healing nicely, but not yet completely, and I couldn't wait to have Dagonet take out the sutures. They were incredibly itchy.

I propped the broom by the front door and walked through the kitchen. I spotted a book on the couch, it had been there since Galahad came back from patrolling the wall. Wow, I haven't been here for quite a while… I picked it up and blew off a thin layer of dust that the cover had collected. It seemed like everything was veiled in light gray particles. I turned around when I heard a sniffle to find Vanora dabbing at her eyes.

"Vanora," I asked worriedly, "what's wrong?" I rushed to her side and put my arm around her shoulders.

She took a few shaky breaths before answering, "I'm just so happy to have you." She grabbed on to me and started to weep, something I had never seen her do, not even when Bors had come back seriously wounded.

I hugged her, rubbing her back, "Oh, Nora, so am I. Shh, don't cry."

"And I'm so happy that you and Galahad have each other," she went on between sobs, "He and Bors are like brothers… and when you and Galahad get married, and if me and Bors ever get married…"

I furrowed my brow, noticing that she had said _when_ Galahad and I got married, and she only said _if_ when she referred to herself and Bors. I learned a while back that marriage was a touchy subject between the couple. I knew it was something that she really wanted, though some days she would deny it… but _most _days, she wanted to be his wife more than anything.

"And when that happens, just think, we'll be like sisters," she finished with a weak smile.

"Vanora, I already think of you as a sister," I explained, but then I wasn't sure if I had said something wrong as a new batch of hysterical tears sprung to her eyes. I continued to soothe her as best as I knew how until she pulled away abruptly.

She straightened in her seat and shook her head, "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

"It's alright," I handed her a clean towel to dry her wet cheeks, "I've heard that that happens to all pregnant women." I teased and was happy to see her smile. I watched as she drew in a long breath and I asked, "All better?"

She laughed shortly and nodded, "All better."

* * *

Vanora and I proved to be not the most productive team. We got distracted from the cleaning with conversation and stories. Mostly stories of the knights before I had come to the fort, before I knew any of them. But she told me that they had changed a lot since then.

Arthur used to laugh more. Tristan used to talk more. And apparently, Lancelot used to be very shy around the fairer sex. Oh, how they have changed.

But none of them were the same as when they had first been brought from their homeland. Partially from growing up, and partially from their experiences.

In the very beginning they were all, including the ones who hadn't survived, miserable. I thought of how I could still see that in most of them some days, mostly Galahad, and it makes _me_ miserable. He puts on a pretty good show when I'm around, but when he thinks I'm not looking… I see it. And it's frustrating. To see someone I love so deeply in despair and the fact that I can do nothing literally hurts my heart. I wish, every single day, that I could somehow make it all disappear, to give him his freedom and therefore give him happiness.

Happiness that he, and all of the knights, deserve.

"Are you looking forward to getting back to work?" Vanora asked. I gave her a dubious look and she chuckled, "I know, a silly question."

"Don't get me wrong," I explained, "I'm really grateful you were able to get me a job there, but…"

"But it's not exactly yer dream profession," she finished my sentence and I nodded. She laughed again, "Tell me about it." Just then her stomach growled loudly.

I hadn't noticed, but a lot of time had passed and it was beyond lunch. I felt guilty from depriving her of food in her condition.

"Goodness," I stood from the table, "We're going to have go to get you something to eat!"

We had strolled the market, enjoying the fresh spring air, picking out some bread and cheese. Vanora had a craving for strawberries, which she's never liked, so I bought some for each of us. We were settled back at my table and munching on our modest lunch.

"Can I ask you a question?" she spoke after swallowing.

I nodded, "Sure."

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?" she kept her eyes on the piece of bread in her hand.

"Um…" I was completely clueless, "That's a good question."

"You never think about it?" Her eyes met mine finally.

"I'm trying not to plan that far into the future," I answered quietly.

"Yer tellin' me that you've _never _daydreamed about where you and Galahad will be?" she asked with a skeptical expression.

I was hesitant. Even in my fantasies I'm hesitant. I chewed on my bottom lip while I thought deeply about it.

"You're afraid," Vanora's voice was certain, "But are you afraid of what things may happen? Or are you afraid to tell me what you really want?"

"Maybe both," I answered honestly.

I don't plan my life too far ahead because I don't know what's going to happen… Will Galahad live to see his freedom granted? I believe in my heart that he will… I just wish my mind would hurry up and agree with that conviction. And once he has his freedom, will I still be there by his side? I hope so. But who knows? No one can tell the future, it's out of our control. Which is, I think, what scares me the most…

"You never really talk about what _you_ want," she continued, leaning toward me, "Sarah, what do you _want_?"

"I want…" I started, but yet again, I hesitated. Why did I feel suddenly self-conscious? Is what I want silly? No, it isn't. I inhaled deeply before continuing quickly, surely, "I want to be with Galahad. I want him."

"I know that already…" she made a flippant hand gesture, "Do you ever want to get married? To have children?"

"Of course," I replied as if it was an already well known fact. But I guess I had never really talked about it with her. Or anyone for that matter.

"How many children do you want?" she smiled.

"Uh, I'm not sure… but I think eleven would be pushing it for me," I laughed and she nodded with wide eyes.

"How many does Galahad want?" Vanora was full of questions today!

"I don't know…" I truly didn't… I suppose that's something I should know about him. I sighed, "I don't think either of us are anywhere near being ready for that."

"Hmm," was her reply.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, "What? Hmm, what?"

"Oh, nothing," she shrugged and I saw a smile tugging at her lips.

"Vanora," I warned, "You better tell me what you're thinking."

She raised a brow, "Well, it's not really what _I'm_ thinking…"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, shaking my head in frustration.

"The knights are close… and don't keep many secrets, if any," she answered, "Galahad has been talking to Bors and Gawain about… the future."

"And?" I shrugged, trying to pretend that him not talking to me about it didn't hurt my feelings.

"Why don't you ask him?" Vanora replied simply.

"Galahad's not here right now, so why don't _you _tell me?" I countered. Before she could respond there was a knock at the door.

"Maybe he is," she chuckled.

"I hope it's your kids looking for you," I teased, sticking out my tongue foolishly, but she merely copied my action.

I opened the door and found Jols waiting.

"Oh, hello, Jols." I smiled, silently wondering why he would be here.

"Hello, Sarah," he nodded once as a greeting, "I am to escort you to the meeting hall… Arthur would like to speak with you."

"They're back?" Vanora bellowed, standing up awkwardly from the bench and making her way over to us.

"Yes," he answered quickly.

I suddenly began to worry, "Is everything all right? Did something happen?"

"I don't believe it is anything bad," he replied, his body language made him seem a bit rushed.

"Alright, let me get my things and lock up," I answered while fumbling to find my key.

"I'm coming with you," Vanora grabbed up a handful of strawberries and popped one into her mouth.

* * *

I walked between them, Vanora on my left and Jols on my right. I looked over at him, his expression was relaxed and his pace was normal. That was a good sign, right? I searched my mind for why Arthur would want to talk to me, but I found no answer. Jols said that he didn't _believe_ it was anything bad… what does that mean?

We followed as he led us through the halls to a set of doors, ones that were rarely used. He didn't bother knocking, he opened one silently and entered the room. We followed, it was the first time I had been here and I was surprised at the size of the round table. I saw the knights gathered together, but not really speaking. Arthur was on the other side, his back to me and blocking my view of the people he was talking to. I turned my attention back to the knights, who had noticed us, and met Galahad's gaze.

I couldn't read his expression. Was he anxious or angry? Worried maybe? I couldn't be sure. He turned his vision to his feet. He was uncomfortable. I vaguely noticed Jols going to Arthur's side, informing him of my arrival.

Arthur turned and smiled, "Hello, Sarah."

I tried to smile back but failed, "Hello." My greeting was a whisper. I looked passed him and saw someone I hadn't expected. Someone I hadn't seen in many years, but I would never forget that face. My heart skipped a beat or two.

My hand flew to my gaping mouth and I spoke through it, "Father?"

His steps didn't falter as he rounded the table, arms spread open, beckoning me to him. This time I did not hesitate. I met him half way and his arms closed around me, embracing me firmly. I held on to him, my face resting on his cold armor.

He was soothing me and I realized that I was crying, my tears spilling onto the metal breastplate, making it slippery against my cheek.

"How?" was all I could manage.

I heard, and felt, him chuckle deep in his chest, "Come, have a seat." His strong Roman accent caught me off guard, I had nearly forgotten how he sounded.

I obeyed as he brought me to a chair and Arthur handed me a goblet of wine. I took a sip and it warmed my already burning throat. I looked around and saw the knights staring at our reunion. All but one. Galahad kept his eyes down. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"Sarah," I heard a female's voice call my name. I turned my body and found a young woman with golden hair approaching me carefully. The man next to her went to hold her back but she shook her head and continued her steps until she knelt to my level.

She smiled, accentuating her incredible beauty, "I'm Julia… Do you remember me?"

I stared at her in shock. Could this really be my little, and once awkward cousin? The same little girl with crooked teeth and freckles? The same little girl that boys used to call ugly? I blinked and shook my head to myself, trying to shake this overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Her smile turned into a frown as she took my motions as a 'No'. Even her frown was beautiful.

"No, no. I remember," I assured her, "It's just… you've…"

"Grown up," she was grinning again, "I know, I've changed a lot."

I looked back to the man who had earlier stood next to her. He hadn't moved and I raised my brows as I realized who he must be. Julia's twin brother. I smirked, "Evander?"

He bowed his head to me, "It's good to see you again, Sarah."

"Yes," was my lame response. Just then another man stepped forward, I knew him immediately, though he had aged. I jumped from my seat and hugged him as I had my own father, "Uncle!"

Alerio laughed heartily as he accepted my embrace, squeezing me tightly, "Ah, Sarah! What fortune we've been blessed with!" He grabbed onto my shoulders and held me at arms length, "You look just like I knew you would. So much like your mother, though you're a bit taller, am I right?"

I nodded, stepping out of his grip to stand by my father, who put his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him, "I-I don't know what to say, this is so…"

My family laughed.

"Wonderful," Julia offered.

"Unexpected," said Evander, a small grin pulling his lips.

"Incredible," Alerio nodded with wide, brown eyes.

"It is beyond words," my father squeezed me and kissed the top of my head.

"It turns out," Arthur began and took his appointed seat, we all followed, including the knights, "that your father, Lucius, is the officer we were to escort."

"Yeah," Bors spoke loudly, as usual, and I saw Vanora sitting next to him, "when he told us his name me and Galahad nearly fell off our horses."

"I wasn't sure why they had reacted so strangely," Arthur shook his head, apparently amused, "until after an hour of riding back to the fort, Bors came to my side and told me who Lucius Marcellus was to you."

I furrowed my brow, thinking of why they waited an hour, "Bors came to you?" Arthur nodded. I turned my face to Bors, though I kept my eyes mostly on Galahad, "Why did you wait so long?"

Bors shifted in his seat, "I guess I just wanted to be sure… then I remembered that you had mentioned your uncle's name once, so I knew that couldn't have been a coincidence."

I nodded as an acceptance to his answer, but I couldn't help but wonder why Galahad hadn't informed Arthur. I watched him as he rested his arms on the table, his fingers intertwined, which apparently were quite entertaining at the moment. He never looked up, as much as I was willing him with my mind to raise his eyes, he never did. But suddenly he spoke.

"When are you leaving?" his voice was cold and everyone in the room looked shocked. I saw Gawain give him a sharp nudge with his elbow, but Galahad ignored him. I admit, it _was _a good question, but couldn't he have phrased it a little less rudely?

After an awkward moment my father made a strange sound in his throat before answering lightly, "We are scheduled to leave in about a week."

Galahad nodded with a bitter expression, "That's all I needed to know." With that he pushed his chair back, stood and walked out of the room swiftly without another word. I watched him leave, as did everyone, and I looked back to Gawain for an explanation. He merely shrugged.

"You'll have to excuse Galahad," Tristan's voice surprised us, "He's not very good with people."

I think everyone in the room who knew the scout were about to burst with laughter. The irony of the statement and who had said it made us all bite our lips to contain ourselves. I noticed he had a faint smirk he was trying to hide as he passed me, going to find Galahad I presumed.

"Well," Lancelot spoke, grinning wildly, "that was weird."

"Very strange," Arthur murmured then continued at a normal volume as he addressed me, "You're father was sent here to meet with me and report information back to Rome… but I think it's safe to say that his priorities have changed." They both smiled lovingly to me.

My father nodded, "Yes, they have. Dramatically. But I think it's best to get business out of the way first."

I was all right with that idea… I needed to find Galahad and figure out what has him so upset.

"We can keep Sarah company," Julia offered happily.

"We should get settled into our rooms first," Evander suggested. Did he sense that I had things to get settled too? Julia pouted but agreed.

"Great," Alerio stood, "So we'll meet up and all have a nice dinner together." He rubbed his round stomach, he must be hungry already.

"I'll have a table set in the dining hall," Arthur concluded.

I hugged each of my family members one more time before leaving, Vanora close to my side. Lancelot, Bors and Gawain were not far behind us, I could hear the two younger knights discussing the beauty of my cousin.

* * *

I opened the door to Galahad's quarters and peered inside. He was wearing black pants and nothing else. I entered completely and shut the door while watching him silently. I felt my body heat up, mostly in my cheeks, at the sight of him.

"Hello," he smiled, walking over and kissing me on the lips.

I furrowed my brows, "You seem… happy."

He laughed softly, "Of course I'm happy, you're here." He rubbed my shoulders while looking at me intently.

I shook my head gently, "I'm confused… What happened between the meeting hall and now?"

"Now _I'm_ confused…" his face mirrored mine, except for his grin, "What are you talking about?" He walked away and began looking for a clean tunic.

"I thought you were upset about something," I explained and took a seat on the bed, "You were acting rather rudely."

He looked over his shoulder quickly with raised brows and wide eyes, "I was?" He sounded genuinely shocked but I could tell by his exaggerated expression that he knew the way he had acted.

"Yes, you were," I crossed my legs, gazing up at him, "But I don't know why."

Galahad pulled an off white tunic over his head, "Well, I suppose I owe them all an apology…" he came and sat next to me, taking my hand in his, "And you as well. I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean to be rude."

It was hard to think when he was looking at me that way. And there was no way I could be mad at him. He cupped my cheek when I nodded and kissed me gently. We soon melted into each other and his body rested on mine. I felt his fingers tangling in my hair as the kiss continued to deepen. I couldn't be sure but it felt just like the moments right before he had to leave. His hands were moving over my body, like he couldn't get enough and his breathing was heavy. His tongue was invading my mouth hungrily, not that I minded, until he moved his attention to my neck. It gave me the chance to catch my own breath but it proved more difficult when every exhale was a moan of pleasure.

"You taste like honey," Galahad whispered in my ear, the air tickled my flesh and I shivered. I felt his lips smile against me at my reaction and he resumed his ministrations. My eyes were closed and I was surprised when his mouth was on mine again, but I accepted him fervently.

He broke our lips' embrace and rested his forehead on mine, "Your mouth taste of strawberries." Before I could say anything he kissed me again, more gently, then began to place feather-light pecks across my cheeks, "And your hair smells like spring."

"You're quite the charmer," I accused. He propped himself up on his forearms and nuzzled his nose against mine.

"Only for you," he replied quietly as he hovered above me, "And you make it so deliciously easy."

I laughed, "Are you hungry?"

"Mmm, yes," he flashed his white teeth slyly and I knew he wasn't hungry for food.

"Good, because Arthur is preparing dinner for all of us," I informed him.

His dark brows pulled together, "That's not exactly what I meant."

"I know, but…" I grinned, "Dinner first, dessert after."

Galahad chuckled, shaking both our bodies, "I can live with that."

* * *

We were both able to stop from consuming any more of each other, surprisingly, long enough to get ready. Galahad changed, again, into something more suitable for a formal dinner. He kept his black pants but opted for a fancier green tunic when he saw that I was going to wear my light sage dress. He said it was one of his favorites and complimented me on my beauty a hundred times before we even left the room.

When we were halfway to our destination we saw Gawain and Lancelot waiting for us. They both ignored Galahad while focusing their attention on me.

"Sweet Sarah," Gawain forced himself between us, "How are you this evening?"

I smiled uncomfortably, "Just fine. And you, Gawain?"

"Wonderful," he put his arm around my shoulders, "now that you're here."

"Stop trying to charm her," Lancelot shooed him away roughly and took Gawain's spot, "Hello, Sarah." He took my hand and gave it a light kiss. I glanced at Galahad who was watching the scene in disbelief. I was becoming suspicious of their odd behavior.

"Alright, what do you two want?" I asked while I narrowed my eyes at them.

Lancelot chuckled, "Want? Only the pleasure of your company."

"Yes, well," Galahad took my hand and pulled me to him gently, out of the other knight's grasp. He muttered something inaudible to finish his sentence. We began to walk again, Lancelot was in front of us, walking backward to keep eye contact with me.

"So, I bet you're happy that your family is here," he grinned widely, making him even more attractive than anyone should be. Though, in my eyes, he didn't compare to my Galahad.

"Yes, very," I answered.

"It's incredible, isn't it," Gawain asked then continued quickly, "after all these years."

"Yes, it is incredible," I said, still trying to figure out what those two were thinking.

"Were you and your cousins close?" Lancelot asked before tripping and nearly falling on an uneven tile. He cursed under his breath and turned around to walk straight.

"We were very close, more like siblings," I replied.

"Evander," Gawain began while trying to look uninterested, "he's what- in his twenties?"

"They're twenty-two I believe," I said, still unaware of where this conversation was going.

"Oh, Julia is older than I suspected," Lancelot said flippantly. Too flippantly. I believed I was beginning to catch on.

"Yes, she looks very young," Gawain chipped in, "and she's quite lovely."

I stopped dead in my tracks. I was holding Galahad's hand still and my abrupt halt caused him to jerk back. I looked between Lancelot and Gawain.

"No." I said firmly and shook my head once.

"No, what?" They said in unison, trying to seem innocent, but they weren't very good actors.

"You know what," I pointed to each of them and repeated myself, "No."

"We really have no idea _what_ you're talking about, Sarah," Gawain rolled his eyes.

"Leave Julia alone," I explained in a whisper, "Trust me, both Alerio and Evander are very protective of her… So that would be for your own good."

"Very well," Lancelot shrugged, "We won't bother her." Gawain nodded. I looked at them for a long moment, examining their expressions, but I couldn't tell if they were telling the truth or not.

"Thank you," I said and resumed our stroll, which was silent for the rest of the way.

Galahad let go of my hand to open and hold the door for me, and Lancelot and Gawain slipped in behind me, forcing him to hold the door for them as well. I stepped in the room and was immediately flooded with the aroma of warm food. The table was long and rectangular, with round iron plates and utensils already set. The dark, wooden chairs were heavy with tall backs, which were adorned with elaborate carvings of ivy.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure, nearly white in contrast to the dark room, dance across the floor. Julia was approaching us. She was wearing a light yellow dress that matched her hair perfectly and gold jewelry filled with blue gems.

Her sapphire eyes were beaming, "I'm so glad you're here, Sarah. The men have been boring me with horrible war stories." She pointed back to Evander, Alerio, Arthur and my father all standing together on the other side of the table.

I laughed, "I can imagine."

She looked passed me to the three knights and smiled, "Hello, I'm Julia."

I thought Lancelot and Gawain were going to trip over each other as they tried to greet her. I decided I didn't want to watch this spectacle and luckily Galahad took my elbow and led me over to the others. They turned to greet us.

"I'm sorry I left so abruptly earlier," Galahad smiled politely and took my father's hand, shaking it confidently, "I'm Galahad, it's nice to meet you, sir."

"That's quite alright, Galahad," my father was just as pleasant, "It's nice to meet you as well."

I hadn't noticed that the rest of the knights had arrived until Arthur suggested it was time to eat. He and my father took the heads of the table. I sat next to Lucius with Julia on my right. I was happy when Dagonet took the seat beside her before Lancelot or Gawain had the chance. Alerio was directly across from me, Evander on his father's left, and Galahad settled next to him. We all made polite small talk over our meal, speaking about the weather, my family's journey to Britain, and of course, to my dismay, me.

"I'm so excited that we get to celebrate your birthday next week," Julia spoke happily, "We've missed too many."

"Yes," Alerio grinned behind his goblet, "How old are you- thirty, thirty-one?"

"Haha, uncle," I laughed anyway, "I'll be twenty-four." Ugh, that sounded so old to me.

"To me you'll always be that little doe eyed girl chasing the boys threatening to kiss them," my father laughed heartily, which only got louder as he looked upon my mortified expression.

"Really?" Galahad drew out the word with interest.

"Oh yes, Sarah was quite the little charmer," Alerio answered, shaking his head with amusement.

"Alright, I think that's enough about me," I said, holding up my hands in protest, but it was in vain.

"No, I want to hear more about when you were younger," Galahad said cheerfully and the others agreed. Even Arthur! It was hopeless.

"Really, there's not much to talk about," I muttered.

"Oh!" Julia exclaimed, making me jump, "That reminds me. Tell the story of when you caught Sarah kissing boys for money!"

I thought my eyes were going to bulge out of their sockets and it felt as if my face was on fire with embarrassment.

"Please no!" I whimpered and Julia giggled. I turned to her and whispered, "Traitor." I didn't dare look up at anyone, especially Galahad, though I had no doubt they were all looking quite interested.

"She was six years old," my father began and I could already hear the smile in his voice, "She desperately wanted a very expensive dress she had seen at the market. I told her that she already had too many but if she would be willing to help her mother with the garden then she would get an allowance and she could save her money and buy it herself. But, apparently it wasn't as much as she was expecting and it was taking too long. She became impatient. One evening I went to look for her, she had been gone most of the day, and found her standing near a creek."

I turned my face and covered it. I knew the story and it was beyond embarrassing.

He chuckled at my action but continued, "There she stood, in her best attire and hair styled, giving a boy a kiss. And there must have been the entire population of young boys standing in a line behind him! I sent them away and they were all very disappointed. Sarah smiled up sweetly to me and held up a pouch full of money and asked me if I could take her to the market so she could buy the dress!" Everyone laughed, including myself, but mostly out of humiliation.

"How much did you charge them?" he asked me.

"One silver coin per kiss, if I remember correctly," I answered, still blushing.

"Did you get the dress?" Galahad asked.

"Yes, of course," my father squeezed my hand, "I could never say no to her."

"It's those brown eyes," Galahad smiled at me, "They get me every time."

I shook my head minutely at him, trying to tell him not to say things like that, but it was too late.

My father cleared his throat and I looked at him nervously. He put his elbows on the table while scrutinizing Galahad. He spoke to him directly, "I'm sorry, but… Are you and my daughter…" he searched for the right word, "_involved._"

Galahad didn't hesitate, "If by involved you mean in love, then yes, we are."

It was completely silent. I watched my father as he watched Galahad. His face was still, but it turned red, and then purple. Not good. All of a sudden my uncle made a quick movement. Red wine went flying all over my father's clothing. He jerked back, out of his hateful daze.

"Oh, Lucius!" my uncle exclaimed, "I'm so sorry, how clumsy of me!" He winked at me when my father wasn't looking. He handed him a cloth, "That's going to stain if you don't get it washed." Alerio stood and forced him out of his seat, "Go, go get changed into something dry."

My father mumbled something unintelligible and left quickly. When the door slammed shut I released the air in my lungs that I hadn't realized I had been holding.

I looked over at Galahad who merely shrugged.

"Was it something I said?" he asked and laughed, but I wasn't amused.

"Are you out of your mind?" I stood and made my way to him. I grabbed his shirt, pulling him with me out into the hall.

"Telling the truth makes me crazy?" he asked while removing my hand, but holding it in his.

"In this circumstance, yes," I nodded.

"Well, he was going to find out sooner or later," he chuckled, "I figured sooner was best."

"You figured wrong," I pulled my hand from his and stomped away back into the dining hall.

"You didn't kill him, did ya?" Bors asked, grinning stupidly.

I shook my head in annoyance, "Where is Arthur?" I noticed that he was no longer in the room.

"Your father sent for him…" Alerio was by my side and talking softly, "He wanted to get the business part done with." He spoke as if he was implying something more, like I should know what that meant. I looked at him blankly and he smiled sadly to me, "I don't think we'll be waiting a week before leaving."

"Oh," my shoulders slumped in sadness, "How long?" I croaked the words.

"He's arranging our things to be ready for tomorrow morning," he answered.

"But you've only just arrived!" I exclaimed, "I can't lose you all again. Uncle, can't you talk to him?"

He shook his head, "Sarah, you don't understand. You're not losing us. You're coming _with _us."

* * *

_Okay, I'm not going to begin to apologize for the delay, it wouldn't be sufficient. But I wrote, then re-wrote, and then re-re-wrote this chapter! So, yeah, that's my explanation. Lol. I hope you all enjoyed…Thanks for reading and a special thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter. _


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